


Keep a Place for Me

by PAPERSK1N



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: (not raywood), 1800s, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bounty Hunters, Business, Feminization, Fluff and Angst, Girls with Guns, Gunslingers, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mavin, Meg is a total badass, Michael is a GIANT TEASE as usual, Mild Sexual Content, Mild Timeskips, Multi, Negotiations, Nineteenth Century America, Nineteenth Century Gangsters, Nineteenth Century Weapons, Pining, Polyamory, Polygamy, Raywood, Servant Ray, Servants, Teenage Ray, Teenage/Young Adult Ryan, Threats of Violence, Turnwood BrOTP, Violence, Weapons, domestic slavery, if thats even the tag, micheoffvin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-10-20 15:24:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10665459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PAPERSK1N/pseuds/PAPERSK1N
Summary: Ryan is just your average young heir to a wealthy fortune, with a dead mother, disapproving father, and house full of servants. Ryan's never known a life outside of the luxury he was born into. Sadly, with luxury, love is more of a rarity.And then Ray is tossed through the front doors of the Haywood mansion, right at his feet.Ray is just a servant. Legally, he doesn't even own his own freedom. He's young, vulnerable, beautiful, compelling. Ryan falls for him the moment the two lock eyes- but Ray isn't going to let him in that easy. Ryan's never even had a friend before, let alone someone who lights up his insides and makes him feel alive for the first time since- well- ever.But young love never lasts so easily.//This is a story about young love at first sight, loss, revenge, gunslinging and most of all, freedom. Every wonderland has it's Alice, and Ray Narvaez Jr is so much more than just Ryan's to save.





	1. Humbled by The Kitchen Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome my new fic!
> 
> Some much darker themes will be explored here than what I usually write- more period-typical violence and treatment of people as property. Some mildly (v v v mild/internalised) racist themes in regards to Ray being not-white (but being black I know all about that lmao) and some other stuff, but hopefully nothing too triggering. Nothing will be super-graphic because that grosses me out. Just let me know if anything else should be tagged :-) and enjoy!

Chapter One: Humbled by The Kitchen Boy

 

 

 

If you head out into the plains of the deep south, past Atlanta and out in the fields and forest that surround it, you will approach a mansion. The outside will be painted a beautiful soft grey, the windows will be framed black. The door is large, dark grey with a solid gold knocker in the shape of a snarling lion head.

Inside, you will find what remains of the Haywood family.

Ryan never had a mother. It wasn’t uncommon, for women to die in childbirth. His father had never seemed to bothered by the fact that his wife was gone, replaced by a defenceless boy with wide blue eyes and tufts of almost-blonde hair. As Ryan grew, his father rarely mentioned her. Draped through the walls of the house the occasional portrait could be seen if you knew exactly where to look. As a child, Ryan would wander the halls for hours- just for the chance catch a glimpse of her, to gaze at her soft features, pretty face and sparkling blue eyes that mirrored his own perfectly. He had never known her, but he’d missed her. He always missed her.

The money had, surprisingly, been hers to begin with. She came from the wealthy Perth family- married a young businessman named James Haywood and in turn he took her inherited fortune and spun it into a bigger, bolder, self-made fortune. Ryan grew up never wanting much at all. Soft silks adorned his clothes and his bedcovers. Scattered across every inch of the house and the acres of land was their personal servants- all legally owned by his father. Ryan found it strange, for a man to be able to own the lives of other men. But, his father did. All rich men did.

Ryan had never paid the servants much mind. They were nice enough people, they cooked his meals and pressed his clothes. However, they always had _jobs_ to do, and weren’t much fun to play with. It was only he and his father who lived in the house aside from the help- and that made things lonely. Sir Haywood wasn’t the kind of man you could play with on a summery Saturday afternoon, so Ryan grew up learning to entertain himself.

However, that began to change when he turned seventeen. Ryan remembered the moment he laid eyes on Ray vividly. He’d been perched, bored out of his skull on the grand staircase that led from the front door up into the higher levels of the house. In his left hand, was an old wooden toy someone had sent as a gift a long time ago. He’d been staring into nothing particular, contemplating going out and riding his horse (Edgar) for a few hours until he was tired enough to sleep. Then, the doors had ricocheted open and his father had strolled in, a few of the farm hands flanking his shoulders. They parted and a boy was thrust forwards, falling to his knees on the tiled floor.

Ryan had stiffened. He wasn’t much to look at- small and scrawny with brown skin, dark eyes and equally dark hair. His lashes were long and thick, covered by thick black spectacles. His clothes were old and tattered. His skin was dirty and bruised. He coughed slightly, before pulling himself back up to his feet. Ryan straightened his back. Instantly, he was captivated by the sight.

“Madeline, Amerié!” his father’s voice boomed through the echoing halls, and two of the girls came running forwards from the parlour. “Take this boy. Clean him up, give him a bath or something. Then, set him to work as a kitchen hand. He’s mine.”

“Yes Sir. Right away, sir.” They both nodded, before reaching forwards with delicate fingers to hold the boy gently, guiding him out the room. However, at the last second, Ray lifted his sluggish neck and turned his head, looking back. He locked eyes with Ryan, briefly and Ryan felt his heart flutter. He didn’t know why- but there was something about this new, exotic _boy_ his father had purchased that he quite liked. He was interested in his story- wondering immediately how he had become a servant. Ryan thought he was far too pretty to be any good in the service industry. He was young too- had to be much younger than Ryan himself as he was so small, and frail.

“Father.” Ryan stood up from the steps as his father began to ascend, burly farm hands still behind him. “That new boy- what’s his name?”

“His name? I don’t know.” His father barely turned and glanced over at him, let alone considered stopping. He carried on upstairs towards the office, but surpassingly, one of the farmhands hung behind. “Ray.” He said, and Ryan fell in love with the sound of it. “Raymond, probably. You know them Mexican types. But he said for us to call him Ray.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

Ryan watched Ray, over the next few days.

He was scrawny, and moved in ways that parroted a rodent. He scuttled around the house, running odd job after odd job with a blank, unreadable frown. He was skittish- the slightest noise could light his nerves and send his body into a tense fit. He was shy- impossibly so. Every attempt Ryan made at talking to him during those first weeks was met with a blushing glance to the tiled floor, until someone called his name sharply and he scuttled right back away. Ryan tried his best not to let it bother him- but he wanted to know this boy, this _Ray_. Something about him was just so _interesting_ , and partly thanks to the fact that he was an only child, living on a plantation in the middle of rural Georgia, Ryan was lonely. A friend would be nice to have- another boy of his age. One as beautiful as Ray was just a bonus.

Secretly, Ryan let himself wonder how Ray’s skin would feel brushed against his, or how their lips would feel pressed together. It seemed far more appealing than the likely arranged marriage to a rich young belle he would likely be forced into come the turn of his next birthday.

He tracked Ray’s movement’s around the house in a way he hoped wasn’t unbecoming of him, as a gentleman. Ray was a runner of odd-jobs, delivering unclean laundry down to the washroom and running the clean bags up. He helped in the kitchen, peeling vegetables and carrying the food waste out to the compost heap in the fields. He ran around as assistant to the maids- dusting ornaments and paintings or climbing into crawl spaces they couldn’t reach. He would come and fetch Ryan’s unclean clothes, every day at one PM, and Ryan made it a point to always be there when he did. So far, they’d managed to have no conversation. He was working on it.

One particular day, as the clock struck one-fifteen Ryan frowned. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, dirty clothes in a pool by his feet, waiting for Ray to arrive. So far, Ray had never been late.

The golden handle of his bedroom door turned, and Ryan re-adjusted himself, laying back on the bed in a way that he hoped looked casual. However, his efforts proved to be for nothing, when one of the other house-girls, Marié, walked in and picked up his clothing.

“Where’s Ray?” he frowned. She rolled her eyes.

“Petit _diable_.” She tutted. “Miss Bella caught him trying to steal from _la cuisine_. Poor little _diable_ is on punishment in the scullery _pour_ _ce soir_.”

She left the room, barely registering the worried frown that settled onto Ryan’s face. Ray had been caught, trying to _steal_ from the kitchen? Ryan supposed that he _was_ hungry often- being so tiny his stomach probably couldn’t handle large meals and snacks through the day were likely what he did live off- but that wasn’t allowed in the Haywood house. All the servants sat down for supper in the evenings, and were allowed twenty minutes before sunrise to eat breakfast. Other than that, they were not permitted to eat a thing.

Ryan had never questioned it, but now that Ray was involved- it did sound a damn sight unfair. And now, _his_ Ray was being punished? Ryan couldn’t have that.

No less than twenty minutes after Marié’s revelation, Ryan worked up some courage and descended the stairs down into the kitchen scullery which was located in the basement. It was pitch black inside, but quietly, through the darkness, he could hear frightened whimpering. Choosing to say nothing- Ryan felt around the wall for the light-switch, and pulled the chain. A small, single gaslight flared and created a gentle, yellow ball of light. In the centre, his Ray was almost-stood with his toes grazing the floor just slightly. His arms had been yanked above his head, and tied with thick rope to the ceiling. His head was hung, bouncing against his chest slightly. Ryan concluded quickly, that he was probably crying.

However, when the light flickered on he looked straight up with the fear of a deer in front of a moving carriage in his eyes. Ryan stilled, hoping not to spook him, but it was too late. Ray began thrashing against his constraints as Ryan stood still and watched, tear tracks trailing down his cheeks.

“Please,” he was pleading. “Don’t hurt me. I didn’t mean it, I swear!”

“I-I’m not here to hurt you.” Ryan replied. Ray stilled, but he didn’t look particular trusting. His face was still twisted into an upset frown.

“Why should I believe you?” he asked. Ryan stepped forwards, and Ray did his best to back away. However, his restraints stopped him from accomplishing much movement, and without much force Ryan had managed to get close enough where he could reach up and untie the rope. When Ray was free, his feet his the ground with a silent thud. Ryan half expected him to bolt- but he didn’t move. Instead, he pushed his glasses up his face from where they had been sat on the tip of his nose, and then looked up at Ryan, who had more than a head on him in height. He really had underestimated how small Ray was- because the scrappy little servant boy only came to his chest at a push.

“That proof enough?” Ryan asked. Ray nodded, before folding his arms protectively over his chest.

“Thanks, I guess.” He hung his head slightly, dark curls bouncing. “Why’d you do it though? Release me? Technically, I _should_ be in trouble.”

“I don’t think that hunger should be a crime.” Ryan shook the rope dust from his fingers, wiping his hands against the leg of his pants. “Nor should petty theft be punished with twenty-four full hours of solitary, tied with thick rope.” He reached forwards hesitantly, but Ray let his arms be extended and Ryan’s hands closed around his tiny wrists. He rubbed the slight red of oncoming rope burn, and frowned deeply. “I will see to it that nothing like this ever happens again.” He promised.

“Why are you helping me?” Ray asked. Ryan didn’t let go of his wrists.

“I… I like you.” Ryan blushed. “It can get lonely in this house with nobody around- but I like seeing you. I like when you come to my room every day to collect my things and always wish you could stay longer.”

“You think that’s all its gonna take?” Ray’s face was a frown again, as he snatched his wrists back, startling Ryan. “Think you can just… say a few nice things and then I’ll let you have your way with me? Not gonna happen-”

“-That wasn’t my intention! No, God- not at all!” Ryan’s blush only darkened, and he suddenly felt uncomfortable against Ray’s scrutinizing gaze. Truthfully, he had wondered several times if Ray would let him see parts of him that others had not- but not so soon. Honestly, he had been interested more so in having the chance to befriend the wiry kitchen boy. The rest, if it ever did, could come later. “I just… I just wanted to know if maybe, we could be friends?”

“Friends?” Ray parroted. Ryan nodded. “Okay. I guess so, Master Haywood. I’ll… be your _friend_ if it gets me out of this gross basement.”

“Please,” he smiled. “Call me Ryan.”

Surprising them both, Ray’s mouth split into a genuine grin. “Okay.” He nodded. “ _Ryan.”_

Within the hour, Ryan had led Ray upstairs and ordered the ground staff that shoved him down there to let him off punishment. He then told the kitchen staff that Ray, along with the rest of them, were permitted to a snack a day, each. There would be hell to pay when and if his father found out- but Ryan would take his chances. It was all worth it, when he saw the smile that lingered on Ray’s face and lit his eyes up from behind as he scurried off, and resumed his daily tasks.

They saw a lot more of each other, after that.

 

//

 

“I’m an orphan.” Ray told him the next night, after Ryan requested they meet on the stairs to talk again. Ray looked even smaller, sat with his knees hunched to his chest. He was swallowed by the regal, carpeted staircase, but the light that glowed around him was so bright and inviting, Ryan felt suffocated in the nicest possible way. “That’s why I’m just a servant now. I’ve got no family so therefore I have no freedom. My parents weren’t rich folk, so after they died the cops dropped me off at the nearest auction house. Said they had nowhere to put a little brown kid like me.” there was a smile on his face, but he didn’t look happy. Ryan sighed sympathetically beside him.

“That’s awful.” He said. “Having no freedom. How do you bear it?”

Ray shrugged. “Just have to I guess. Being owned- as a servant... I’ve always got a bed to sleep on and a roof over my head. Food to eat. Better than starving on the streets and dying before I even turn sixteen.”

“You’re fifteen?”

“Mhm.” He nodded. “It’s my birthday pretty soon. September fifteenth, I turn sixteen and mark my fourth year living as a slave.”

“Doesn’t sound like much to celebrate.”

“Like I said.” Ray turned his head, and looked up to Ryan with that same, half-assed smile. “Better than dying.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Night-time chats on the stairs became smiling at each other in the halls. It became Ray hanging around for a few minutes when he had to collect Ryan’s washing, before a shrill voice hollered for him to hurry up and get back to work. Their friendship- despite Ray’s doubting- blossomed at rapid pace, and they both found themselves quite fond of the other within weeks.

On Ryan’s request, after a month or so Ray became his personal hand. Ray delivered his freshly cleaned clothes in the mornings before collecting his dirty ones. Three times a day, Ray carried a silver tray up two flights of stairs with Ryan’s meal or snack of choice and with a smile, Ryan would invite him in and insist he share- or at least take a bite or two. Ryan _loved_ every minute of Ray’s new promotion- because instead of quickly muttered _good morning_ ’s as they passed in the corridor, he and Ray could sit down in the daytime and just _talk_ , to each other. At night time, they still had their arranged meetings on the stairs where they would laugh loud enough for one of the kitchen girls to lean her head out of the door and glare at Ray, a silent scream of _keep it down_. They never dared look at Ryan with such ferocity. Ray never bothered to keep quiet.

“You’re a menace.” Ray said to him, scooping up discarded shirts and tossing them into the wicker basket he used to carry the laundry. “All the other staff hate me because they think I’m your favourite.”

“You _are_ my favourite.” Ryan flirted, wrapping his hands around Ray’s waist and spinning him around the room until they both fell with a giggle, onto the soft bed. Ryan didn’t move his hands. He loved how small Ray felt every time he powered through his rationale and gave into the urge to touch him. Ray never seemed to mind.

“Shut up.” His Puerto-Rican heritage sparkled in his brown skin as the sunlight caught them both through the open window, and Ryan marvelled at the way his cheeks could still pinken as if he were pale. “You’re a terrible flirt. Anyone would think you’re trying to seduce me.”

“So what if I am?” Ryan asked boldly. Ray rolled his eyes, and sat back up at the foot of the bed.

“Whatever.” He leant over to pick up another discarded shirt, as Ryan scooted up to the same edge of the bed and swung his legs around so they were sitting side by side. “All the maids who think you’re _so hot_ already want to kill me because they think we… you know…” he trailed off. Ryan raised an eyebrow playfully, and Ray laughed.

“Stop it!” he giggled. “You’re such a _tease_ , God.”

“I can’t help it!” Ryan protested, reaching forwards to pull Ray back down onto the bed by hand when he stood to leave the room. “Ray, I find you enchanting. You’ve known that since the day I rescued you from the kitchen.” Gently, he let his fingers creep up Ray’s wrist and stroke the inside vein of his forearm. Ryan had to admit, he had been quite bold lately in his adoration of Ray. They’d been friends for six months- but Ryan wanted more. He’d never connected with _anyone_ the way he’d felt his soul bond with Ray’s. He wanted them to _be together_ , in every sense of the word.

Ray was still sceptical.

“What would your father say, Rye?” He pointed out, and not for the first time. “If he found out you liked _me?_ A fucking _hand_? It would never work.”

“I’d make it work.” Ryan’s fingers were still playful as they tickled the inside of Ray’s elbow, but his tone was serious. “Honestly, Ray. I’d do anything to be with you.”

“ _Raymond!”_ a voice hollered. “ _Where’s that god-damn laundry?!”_

Ray huffed. “Sorry Rye. I have to go. I wish things could be different.”

“Kiss me.”

Ray froze. Ryan didn’t lean forwards- his last ever intention would be to force himself where he wasn’t wanted- but in all honesty, he was tired of waiting. He and Ray had come close, too close, too many times. He’d seen it in the other boy’s eyes. Ray had always been the one to lean in a little closer than necessary, stare at Ryan’s lips a second long when they spoke. Ryan knew Ray wanted him just as badly as he did. He just needed Ray to prove it.

“I can’t.” Ray whispered. Ryan smiled.

“I dare you.”

“ _Raymond!”_

As Ryan turned, perhaps to yell back that Ray was _busy_ or that his orders overrode that of the laundrymaid’s, Ray lurched forwards and grabbed his face with both hands. Their lips pushed together, and Ryan melted instantly. Ray must’ve been experienced- the way his lips slotted against Ryan’s was both foreign and familiar. Ryan was eighteen- but he’d never kissed anyone before. Perhaps that was why he had been so hesitant with Ray- out of fear he’d get it wrong.

Kissing, apparently, was quite easy with the right person.

“ _Raymond Narvaez Jr!”_

 _“_ Jesus, I’m coming Marion!” Ray pulled away, and glared fiercely in the direction of the hollering voice. Ryan was left, panting and overcome by _feeling_ as he watched Ray gather up his basket and rush over to the door. “Sorry Rye, I gotta go. Stairs, eleven PM?”

Wordlessly, unable to attempt speech, Ryan nodded. Ray left the room and closed the door behind him. Once again, Ryan was alone.

Tentatively, he reached up and touched his bottom lip. Then, his face broke out into the largest smile his lips could muster.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Following the kiss- things became easy.

Ryan had never had a problem with keeping secrets from his father. The two hardly spoke aside from muttered greeting accompanied by nods if they passed in the halls and the occasional awkward dinner conversation when guests were over. It was hardly a secret kept- because his father never asked. Ryan never told.

Some of the other staff knew- they _had_ to have known with the amount of time Ray spent out of his room at night. Only, he was never found lounging about on the stairs again. He was usually somewhere else entirely.

They were both inexperienced, Ryan devastatingly more so- but he allowed Ray to guide him with his nimble fingers and soft lips, and together they found a happy rhythm they could settle into together in the dead of the night. Every evening, Ryan thanked the lucky stars that his father slept on the top floor of the house, and the thick walls likely meant that Ray’s desperate moans and squeals went unnoticed by all.

But it wasn’t just _sex_. Ryan understood that the sex was a heavy factor in their relationship- and the revelation that it was an activity he could participate in almost every night did truly change his life and lifted his spirits- but the biggest player in their relationship wasn’t the body. It was the heart.

Of course, Ryan had been in love with Ray from the moment he’d laid eyes on the broken, scruffy boy that fell to his knees in the centre of the entrance hallway- but he was given the gift of falling all over again as his time with Ray became intimate. In the dead of the night, before Ray had to sneak off back to his servant’s quarters and get some actual sleep before he had to work, they would reach across to each other and fingers would trace lovingly over soft skin. Lips would brush together and hair would be raked through with soft tugs. Ryan held Ray like he was precious, rather than fragile, and never resisted the urge to surround the small boy with every inch of his body he could manage. Ray would giggle- deep and child-like, before shoving him off and calling him a _lump_ or a _brute_.

Ray taught him things. Although he understood a fair amount of French and could speak it to some of their European servants, Spanish was a language Ryan had never delved into through his schooling. Through loving whispers in the middle of love-making, or also laid afterwards, Ryan learnt quicker than he ever had before. After a year- he could almost make full conversation with _his_ boy, in full view of others, without them knowing a lick of their conversation.

And Ray had the most _salacious_ vocabulary! It was astonishing, how he could brush past Ryan in the corridors on a simple Wednesday afternoon and mutter something so filthy without batting an eyelid, Ryan would have to excuse himself immediately to the bathroom- or worse- find an empty closet to drag Ray back into if nobody else was around. For a year and a half- they became obsessed with the new revelations that sex could bring them, when added with love. Ryan had what he likened to a religious experience the first time Ray sunk to his knees before him- and in turn, Ray had sworn he’d seen stars and constellations the first time Ryan had let himself taste every inch of the boy, inside and out.

“One day,” Ryan mumbled, rubbing his hands gently around Ray’s hair and the back of his neck as they held each other close in bed. “When I’m old enough and wealthy enough to leave home- I’ll buy you your freedom. I’ll purchase the deed right from my father and then rip it up as he watches. Then, you and I can run away and start a life together.”

It was a childish dream, but for eighteen months it was what they hung on to. Some nights, Ryan would drag Ray out onto the small balcony that could be accessed from his bedroom and they would sit together under the stars, recounting the story and imagining details of their fictitious, future life. And perhaps, then, it didn’t seem so fictitious at all. Because suddenly, the petty dollars flung his way every month as _allowance_ were not spent- they were locked away in a box, building up slowly. Ryan knew, if he carried on saving, he could afford a house. He could afford a carriage to tie onto the back of Edgar. He could afford Ray’s papers.

They would be free.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Freedom had costs. Ryan knew that.

He’d forgotten, for a short while in their eighteen months together, that his father was even part of the equation. Ryan let himself be caught up in the whirlwind of money hording- green notes stuffed into an old jewellery box that Edna- the oldest maid they employed- told him once belong to his mother. It sat on his bedside, and Ryan had been staring at it whilst Ray snored quietly against his chest. They hadn’t bothered with sex that particular night, because Ray had been worked like a cart-horse for the last few days and his body was aching. His fingers had started to tense up and spasm from over use, so Ryan had bathed them in warm water with camomile oil blended in, before lending one of his silk bed-shirts for Ray to sleep in.

And it looked fantastic- hanging off his narrow shoulders and dipping down past his slender fingers. Ray had filled out some since living at the Haywood Manor, particularly around his hips and ass in ways Ryan _adored_ but he was still rail-thin around his ribs and torso. Ray had sworn he was just naturally small, but Ryan kept an eye on what he ate, just in case.

Ryan gazed at the jewellery box, and used his free hand (the one that wasn’t stroking gently at Ray’s hair) to reach across and open it. As the top lifted, the tiny dancer spun and a small melody played through the room. Ryan smiled. He was sure his mother, whatever type of woman she had been, would’ve loved it.

The door busted open, casting cool light into the room. Ryan sat up, squinting as his father stormed inside, face contorted in rage. Flanking him were beefy stage hands, lanterns and shotguns in hand and equally stormy glares.

 “The little Puerto Rican one is missing from his bunk. Must’ve run away again so we’re going to hunt him-” one started- but they were interrupted by a quiet, incoherent mumble as the disturbance roused Ray from his sleep, and sat up, groggy, rubbing his eyes.

“Rye?” he mumbled, but it was too late.

One bounded forwards before Ryan had the chance to react, grabbing Ray by a fistful of his hair. He dragged him from the bed, before tossing him onto the cold wooden floor roughly. Ryan yelled- but then a shotgun was cocked and before he knew it, was aimed into Ray’s sobbing face.

“Let him go!” Ryan stood up from the bed. He was strong- but not strong enough to fight off three grown men with guns and his father, who was staring at him with such a venom on his face Ryan hadn’t seen the likes of before. But, that didn’t matter. All Ryan could look at was Ray- forlorn and teary-eyed, shielding his face from the impending blast of the gun.

“Please… don’t…”

“What do you want us to do, boss?” The farmhand asked Master Haywood, who hadn’t yet torn his eyes from his son in disgust.

“My son…” he muttered quietly. “Fucking the _kitchen boy_?”

“Father I-” Ryan bit his lip furiously, desperate not to let the desperate sob escape from his throat. It wasn’t much use however, because another look at Ray on the floor, as the barrel of the gun nosed at his head before resting against his temple sent tears rolling from his eyes down his face. “I love him! Please, don’t do this!”

“I can shoot ‘im.” The hand offered, ignoring both Ryan and Ray’s whispers. “Won’t be pretty, but it’ll be quick.”

“Don’t shoot.” Master Haywood held up a hand, and for a second, Ryan’s heart flickered in relief. “In fact, don’t harm him at all, for now.” Master Haywood continued, but the strange almost-smile that curled around his snarling lip made Ryan’s stomach turn. His father could be a wicked man- he’d seen it first-hand many times. “Get him up.” He ordered, and in turn, Ray was pulled to his feet. Master Haywood locked eyes with his son. “Take him to the nearest auction house. I don’t want him anymore, so sell him-”

“Dad, _no_ -”

“-For _cheap_.” He snarled. “Get him out of my sight, and bolt the door to this room with Ryan in it. I think he required a few days to think about what he’s done.”

“I won’t let you!” Ryan all but roared, lurching forwards to grab at his father- but he was stopped by a powerful hand gripping his throat along with two cocked shotguns, now pointed in his direction. Ryan felt his father’s hand squeeze his windpipe once, bruising so, before he dropped his son to the floor.

“Have it be done.”

“No!” Ryan sobbed from his new position on the floor, but there was nothing to be done. Ray was dragged out first, despite his cries of protest and his violent kicking. Ryan’s father followed, and the last two hands backed out slowly, guns trained on Ryan as if he was some kind of wild animal at a carnival. Then, the bedroom door was closed. From inside, Ryan heard the click of the lock.

That didn’t stop him. He ran to the door and pounded on it, punched it, scratched at the wood until his fingers bled from splinters. He found for hours, but it was no use. He was trapped.

Ray was gone.


	2. Fugitive of Your Own Accord

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan makes a decision. Meg Turney saves his life. Together, she helps him learn Ray's new location.

Chapter Two: Fugitive of Your Own Accord

 

 

 

The hardest part of his Lift Without Ray was knowing that he’d broken his one promise.

Ryan silently fumed and sulked for an entire week. The lock was removed from his room after a day or two, but Ryan refused to come out. Angry at his lack of co-operation, his father instructed for the lock to be re-applied. Ryan didn’t say a word in protest.

In a way, he was punishing himself. He’d promised Ray that they would marry each other, run away together, be free. He’d broken that promise by breaking the vows that bonded them together. He hadn’t protected Ray when he needed it most.

Ray probably despised him. Ryan despised himself.

It wouldn’t ever be _okay_. Ryan had indebted himself eternally to both Ray and whatever God that had steered the boy into his path, gazing down on them from above. Ryan had broken his promise- his _vow_ even- and the only way to avoid the negative consequences would be to _get Ray back_.

It was going about that that caused a slight problem.

Firstly, he didn’t know where Ray had been dragged off to when his father ordered him to be sold. Had he even made it to the auction house? Or, had they just dragged him into the woods and shot him like a wounded deer? Ryan shivered at the thought. However, he knew his and Ray souls had bonded completely- and therefore if his heart was still beating strong, Ray had to be alive and somewhat safe. From there, Ryan would have to follow what little intuition he had.

The first step to his plan was (temporarily) getting his father back onside. He couldn’t do much about a rescue mission locked inside his own bedroom- so, when his father finally came back around to check if he wanted to “come back to reality and forget about his silly infatuation with the brown-boy” he gritted his teeth, nodded and agreed that _yes_ , hadn’t it all just been _ridiculous_?

Then, his father surprised him.

“Her name is Genevieve. She comes from a very wealthy family, who’s business dates back with your mother’s family for decades. You are to marry her, next week. I realise now that really; this whole debacle was my fault.” Master Haywood leant back in his office chair, puffing on his tobacco pipe. Ryan gripped his fists underneath the desk where he couldn’t be seen.

“How so?”

“Well.” Master Haywood slumped slightly. “I’ve neglected you, son. I’ve been so caught up in business, I didn’t even consider finding you a wife. No wonder you started fucking the little Mexican boy-”

“-he was Puerto Rican.”

“Yes, whatever. I’m saying, Ryan, men have _urges_. And, when those urges have no outlet- a nice woman to be wedded to- they go elsewhere and wander where they shouldn’t. I’m a little surprised you went for little _Raymond_ of all people-”

“-his name was Ray.”

“Yes, _Ray_. I’m surprised he caught your attention out of all the pretty pale scullery maids, but I suppose he did have a nice curve to his petite body once you started fattening him up. Yes, don’t think I didn’t see you slipping him extra food. I will admit, by the end he looked somewhat _presentable_.”

“I’ll marry Geneviève.” Ryan cut in, eager to end the conversation before his anger was past the point of being controlled. The fact he had made it this far proved wonders about his self-control on levels that Ryan wasn’t even aware he could access. Really, he would’ve liked to reach across and choke his father on his own pipe from the moment he’d uttered Ray’s name, but he successfully resisted. “I’ll marry her.”

“Good!” Master Haywood smiled, standing to round his desk and pat his son on the shoulder. “I’m glad you’re over all this pouting, teenage nonsense. You’re a _man_ , Ryan. Good to see you start acting like one.”

 

* * *

 

 

He didn’t even get the chance to meet this _Genevieve_ before wedding plans were arranged.

His father was back to his usual self, distant and pre-occupied, but for once it wasn’t business pulling his attention from his son. Every time Ryan dared pass the study, his fathers would be barking orders at someone else about the wedding. Apparently, the bouquets were going to be lavender. Ryan didn’t mention that he hated the smell.

It didn’t matter, however, because Ryan had no intention of ever seeing his blushing bride nor their _special_ day. Nine months had passed since the worst day of his life, and once he decided that the money stuffed into the jewellery box would be sufficient to get them a half decent home somewhere far way, Ryan focused his energy onto his escape.

Some of the maids knew he was planning something but thankfully, they all kept quiet when they walked into his quarters to find him meticulously sorting through his belongings, deciding what was precious enough to get a spot inside his travel bag that would be strapped to Edgar’s saddle. Packing light was essential if he was going to make it out even just a few miles from home.

The plan itself was dangerous. Ryan had hardly ever been out of his own home- let alone the state itself on his own. His whole life he had been coddled by money and finery and a love distantly bittered by his father. He’d never had to know how to survive on his own and he’d never had anything he wanted bad enough to try.

Except for now. Because now he had Ray, and a thousand broken promises stretched between them. Danger didn’t come close to scaring him away from rectifying things.

It was a cool Tuesday night when Ryan left. Edgar was very irate at being disturbed from his sleep, but with a few sugar cubes and a pat on the neck from his master, he was attentive, and most of all- quiet. Edgar was a clever horse, and his hooves barely made a sound as Ryan mounted him and they rode out of the grounds. Ryan’s heart hammered in his chest as he dared to look back at the place he had called home for so long, but not for a minute did he consider stopping.

He turned, once again facing forwards. Just outside of the Haywood estate was a large forest. Through there, along the trail, he would come to the nearest village. He could only hope it would be as easy as that to find what he was looking for.

 

* * *

 

 

 

The first night of his new life, Ryan dreamed.

He was slumped against a tree, Edgar resting beside him and grazing at some of the leaves that scattered the floor. His brow was furrowed, and he couldn’t hide his shivers- even with the fine blanket wrapped around his body. Ryan had never slept on anything that wasn’t silk in his life. Perhaps that’s why his dreams were so vivid.

They were Ray- of course. What else did he have to dream about? Ray dreamed of Ray and him, together as they belonged. They were living in a grand house, but it wasn’t the home Ryan had once known. There was nobody to interrupt them this time, when Ryan rolled over in their soft bed and saw his sleeping beauty wrapped in nothing but the bedsheets. He leant forwards, kissed the tip of his nose gently. Ray laughed and shoved him, playfully. Then, Ray grabbed him by the collar, slim fingers tucking into the cotton tightly. He pulled Ryan, with a sudden strength, backwards and forwards, shaking him.

Ryan was confused, until he opened his eyes.

Two other pairs stared back at him. It was two men- one lanky with dark hair that fell around his shoulders and thin, wire glasses. His accomplice was much shorter, with short cut hair and a muscular form. It was his hands, grabbing onto Ryan’s fine shirt and shaking him roughly.

“Jeremy, dude. I think he’s awake.” The taller man said. Ryan frowned groggily, squinting up at them.

“Huh? What’s going on?” he mumbled.

There was an unfamiliar clicking sound. When Ryan’s vision cleared, he realised that the shorter man, _Jeremy_ , was holding a pistol to his face. Ryan’s body stiffened in fear. He’d seen guns before- his father owned many hunting rifles that he’d been lucky enough to handle once or twice. Some of his father’s rich associated had bought decorated pistols to dinners and parties to show off. However, Ryan had never quite seen a gun from the end of its barrel before.

“Give us all your fucking money!” Jeremy commanded.

“Wait, no-” Ryan threw his hands up in surrender, cursing himself for thinking he could just _sleep_ , open in the forest, defenceless. Why hadn’t he thought to bring a gun too? “-please, look- I’m sure we could sort something out.”

“I don’t think so buddy. Cash, _now_.”

“I don’t know- dude looks kinda down on his luck.” The other man said. His friend turned and glared at him. “I’m just saying! Don’t kick a man when he’s down!”

“We’re _robbing_ him right now Matt. And you wanna fucking _negotiate_?”

“I’m just saying- clearly he’s got cash.” He gestured at Ryan’s clothes. “He could probably give us half of what he’s got and we’d be fucking laughing.”

“What is the point of robbing a dude for _half_ his cash? That just means we’re gonna have to go and find someone else to rob after!”

“We could always take his horse?”

“What the fuck are we gonna do with _another_ horse?”

“No, think about it-”

“Hey!” Another voice, female this time, called behind them. Before Jeremy or Matt had the chance to turn around, a gunshot whipped between both their heads and hit the tree trunk above Ryan, causing all three of them to duck, panicked. They all looked up together at the source, and a horse that wasn’t Edgar whinnied loudly. A woman was sat on top of it as it bucked, front hooves raised five feet high. She had bright red hair fanning out from under a wide brimmed hat. In her dainty hands was what looked to be a decorated duelling pistol. “That was a warning shot.” She smirked. “Get out of here, or the next one wont miss.”

Without another word, Jeremy and Matt scrambled off. Ryan was still frozen in fear, sat with his back against the tree as the woman approached him slowly, dismounting her horse and stalking over with an intrigued frown on her face. She was very beautiful- but there was an air of domination about her. Even Edgar, still tied to the tree stump, took a few steps backwards.

“Get up.” She waved with her pistol and Ryan obliged, stumbling to his feet and pulling his hands up in defence.

“Please, don’t rob me.”

Thankfully, she smiled. “I’m not going to rob you.” She twirled the gun expertly in her fingers, before lifting the skirt of her dress and tucking it back into it’s holster. Ryan averted his eyes politely. “I’m Meg. Meg Turney.” She extended a hand, and he shook it. “What are you doing sleeping alone in the woods like that? You know bandits crawl this place looking for dummies like you.”

“I’m Ryan Haywood I- I’m not really from around here. I live… west-” he pointed in the direction of his home. “In my families’ estate but- I’ve fled. I’m trying to get over to the village.”

“The village? What for?” Meg asked curiously. Ryan frowned.

“I- I just lost the love of my life. He was taken from me by my father and sent off to the auction house to be sold, so I’ve fled in search of him.” He answered, truthfully. Meg tucked a string of red hair back behind her ear.

“Interesting.” She nodded. “Well, that’s awfully sweet buddy, but the auction house is back that way.” She pointed behind him. “If your tracks are anything to go by, you’ve been going in circles for the last day or so. I’ve been following you- thought you looked a little suspicious.”

“Circles?” Ryan physically deflated. “I thought I was right on track! I’m not… directionally savvy, I guess. I’ve never even been this far from home.” He admitted, hanging his head.

“You know what, Ryan?” Meg said, smiling as he looked up at her. “I’m gonna help you out. Cause I like you, and I like your story. I think it’s sweet and you seem like a nice guy, even though you’re a little clueless.”

“Um, thank you?” Ryan blushed slightly. “I hate to sound rude- but who are you, Meg? You said you were tracking me for a while because I look suspicious? Are you a police officer?”

Meg laughed. “Not quite.” She shrugged. “I’m a bounty hunter. I get given names and faces of people wanted dead or alive and I deliver them to the highest reward. Usually dead.”

“Oh.”

“I’m heading North and doing a few hunts. You said you were looking for the auction house in the village?”

“Yeah.” Ryan nodded. “That’s where I think he was taken.”

Meg grimaced. “Hate to break it to you buddy, but that auction house was knocked down over a year ago. All livestock now gets sent through the big auction house in Liberty City. It’s a couple weeks journey from here-” Ryan deflated again, but Meg was quick to add “-I’ll take you! I’m working a few bounties heading that direction, and if you help me out with a couple along the way I’ll take you right to the door.”

“I don’t know if I’d be much help.” Ryan replied. “I’ve never… _killed_ anyone before.”

“Please.” Meg scoffed, reaching behind herself and pulling another dark gun from behind her back. She tossed it over to a startled Ryan, who still somehow managed to catch it. “You’ll learn.”

Ryan frowned, turning the gun over in his hands. “Where did you pull this from?” he asked. Meg winked.

“Trust me. You don’t wanna know.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Surprising both Meg and himself, Ryan was a fast learner.

She started things off easy, painted targets on trees as they went along, making their way through the forest. Ryan’s eye was good- and his accuracy impressed even her. Once they branched out from painted bullseyes to quickly sketched models of human beings, his success rate increased exponentially.

All in all, thanks to a few storms, the journey ended up taking a little longer than they expected. Whilst Ryan was still antsy to make it to the auction house before Ray had a chance to be sold off, he found himself briefly forgetting his worries the more and more time he spent with Meg. It didn’t have all that much to do with her being devastatingly attractive (as he only had eyes for Ray) but Ryan found that he couldn’t quite keep his eyes off her at all moments. Even as they rode through the forest at breakneck speeds, chasing bandits who wold quickly be outrun by their flying bullets, she was _beautiful_ , _graceful, incredible_.

She was funny too. When they set up camp together and built a fire to sleep around, Meg would tell funny stories of her friends back home and encourage Ryan to tell his own. Truly, she was the second friend he’d ever made- aside from Ray. It was nice, to have someone there to listen to his tales of youth now that Ray was no longer available to listen.

Meg believed in fairness, but also in equity- so they shared the intake from each bounty they collected together 60/40. Ryan didn’t mind. The slightly smaller pay check increased his pre-existing savings quite dramatically, and once a few weeks of travelling had passed, Ryan was reassured to find he had plenty enough cash to both buy Ray’s freedom and a home for them to enjoy it in.

“I like you Ryan.” Meg said one night, laid back with her bag tucked under her head as a pillow. Ryan was laid on the other side of the fire, so when he turned his head to look over her facial expression was unreadable, hidden by the flickering flames. “You and I, we make a really good team.”

“I’m glad you think so.” He replied. “Although I still think I’m probably just holding you back.”

She scoffed. “Nonsense. If anything, you’re _watching_ my back, and that’s someone like me needs when you work a job like this.” She stretched her arms above her head, before tucking her hands underneath. “A friend to watch your back.”

“I’m glad I can help.”

“You could always stay.” She offered. Ryan frowned. “Be my partner, ride with me, travel the country. We’d be filthy rich by the turn of the new year.”

Ryan bit his lip. “It’s a kind offer, and I’d be lying if I said for a second I wasn’t tempted but…” he trailed off and sighed, staring up into the night sky where all Ray’s favourite constellations lived. “I can’t be a bounty hunter, Meg. I left my home to find Ray. If I don’t do that… I won’t be able to live with myself.”

“I understand.” She sighed. “And I’ll help you, of course. But… after you find him, if you ever are stuck for work… I’d have you back in a heartbeat.”

Ryan looked over to Meg in that moment, and when she smiled, toothy and abash, he knew it was genuine. He smiled back, and the flames continued to dance between them as night set in and the cold took over, and they both settled down to sleep.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Liberty City was the only major town Ryan had ever been in.

Just once, when he was a small boy, he had ridden in the carriage with his father through the city on their way to the home of one of his business associates to close a deal. His usual nanny who kept watch over him for long periods of time had just caught colic, so stuck without a sensible option, Ryan’s father had reluctantly decided to bring him along. Plus, deals usually ended up with a lot less bloodshed if a pretty five-year old was present.

Ryan remembered being so small that he couldn’t see out the window unless his father lifted him into his lap. When he had, after much pestering, his eyes had widened and he’d stared at the incredible city. The buildings looked so _tall_ and _modern_ , and swarms of people filled every sidewalk. Ryan had decided then, that as soon as he could, he would jump at the chance to return.

It wasn’t so marvellous, over a decade later.

The place was a dump; dusty corners and uneven roads. Solemn people on ill-looking horses rode through slowly, men and women dressed in drab grey and brown clothes scowled when Meg skipped through with her bright hair and vivid blue dress. Her heeled boots clicked as they walked through the centre of the town, horses trailing behind them with healthy, shining coats and fresh shoes. Ryan followed a step or so behind Meg, and did his best to ignore the scrutiny they received from the town’s colourless residents.

“Well, there it is.” Meg pointed suddenly at a large building in the middle of the square. “The records house. If there’s anywhere you’ll find trace of him, it will be here.”

Ryan swallowed thickly and smoothed the collar of his shirt down. Meg set to work tying the horses up outside and then, with a reassuring pat on his back, led them inside. The bell above the door rang loudly as they walked in, and an ancient looking man with soft white hair and a lit cigar between his lips looked up from the book he’d been rifling through.

“Well, how can I help you folks?” he asked with a smile. Meg smiled broadly back, but Ryan couldn’t bear to force it. He was already on edge, glancing around at the antiques and other items for sale strewn across the shop. He couldn’t bear to imagine Ray, documented as they were, with a tag around his slender neck.

“We’re looking for a specific boy, may have been sold here sometime in the last few weeks.” Meg leant forwards on the counter, and Ryan watched with a frown as the man glanced down the top of her dress for a few seconds. “Name of Ray Narvaez.”

“Jr.” Ryan added. “Ray Narvaez Jr.”

“Well,” the man seemed hesitant when he looked at Ryan, but softened when Meg smiled at him and leant farther forwards on the desk. “I’m not really supposed to show the records to passing members of the public, you see, but for you, young miss, I’ll make an exception.”

“Thank you!”

He pulled out a small monocle and balanced it on his eye. Then, squinting, he flicked through the crisp white pages of the heavy looking leather bound book marked _transactions_ in gold lettering. His fingers skimmed the listed items as he flicked through the pages, and it made Ryan sick to his stomach to think of Ray, _his Ray_ , being listed as merely an object in a business deal.

“Here.” He stopped, and turned the book around so they could read it. “Ray Narvaez Jr. Seventeen, one hundred and twenty pounds sold to one Geoffrey Ramsey for three-hundred and fifty dollars. I remember him, pretty thing, if a little banged-up. A real steal. Original owner was insistent on his price being kept so low. I’ll never know why-”

“That bastard.” Ryan couldn’t bear to hear any more, fist gripped tightly as he cursed his father’s name under his breath. Meg turned around to raise an eyebrow at him. “He sold Ray for cheap, likely to spite me.” he explained quickly, a deep frown taking over his face. “That wicked, _evil_ man- no wonder Ray was purchased so quickly.”

“Rye,” her voice was soft as she stroked his arm gently. “I promise you, we’ll find him. Geoffrey Ramsey isn’t exactly a guy who prides himself on elusiveness, right?”

The man behind the desk snickered. Ryan frowned deeply and looked between them both.

“Who is Geoffrey Ramsey?” he asked. Both Meg and the counter clerk raised their eyebrows.

“Nobody.” She said quickly, moving away from the desk. “Thank you for your time.” She shot the clerk a wide smile, which was returned, before grabbing Ryan by the wrist and pulling him out of the room swiftly.

“What was all that about?!” he asked once she had pushed him out the store with a stern look on her face.

“Who’s _Geoff Ramsey?_ Are you _serious_?!”

Meg was fuming, and it was the first time Ryan had seen her angry. It actually had him quite taken aback, and he took several steps away from her with his arms raised. “I don’t know who that is!” he replied, truthfully. Meg threw her arms in the air indignantly.

“Ryan, Geoff Ramsey is the biggest gangster in the whole of the south!” she told him in a hiss, “So much as discussing his business in front of the wrong people could get us killed!”

Ryan stilled. “Oh.”

Sighing, Meg looked around to ensure nobody else was listening. Thankfully, the area had seemed to have turned into a ghost town once they arrived, and they were safe from prying ears.

“Look,” she walked over to the horses, stroking the manes of each, explaining as she did so. “He’s incredibly wealthy- but got his start as a poor stable boy in Alabama. Now, he lives in Austin and runs the biggest organised militia of gunslingers in the south, if not the whole country.”

“And he’s got Ray?”

Meg nodded. “Which means… going there and trying to steal Ray from him… Rye, it’s stupidly dangerous. There’s not really a chance in hell it could go right.”

“Austin you say?” Ryan walked over to Edgar and untied him, leading him away from the post. “How far is that? A few hours?”

“Are you even _listening_ to me?” she demanded. Ryan stopped, sighed, and turned around to face her.

“Meg, I’m sorry, but I’m going. No matter what, even if I die- I have to try and get Ray back. I _promised_ him that I would ensure his safety, and if he’s living under ownership of some big-time crime lord… that _isn’t_ safe.” He re-adjusted Edgar’s reigns, and with the horse ready and safe to depart, he mounted him. “I’m going. No matter what.” he repeated, pulling the Stenson hat Meg had stolen from one of their victims for him from where it was clipped to Edgar’s saddle and placing it on his head.

In response, Meg pulled herself up onto her own horse. “Then I’m coming with you.” She rode forwards, into the middle of the square. Ryan didn’t move.

“I can’t make you do that-”

“-Good job I want to then, isn’t it?” she cut him off adamantly. “Don’t sweat it Rye. I’m invested! I wanna see how this tragic love-story ends, don’t I?”

Ryan knew arguing with Meg once she had her mind set on something was futile. She was incredibly stubborn at both the best and worst of times, knew what she wanted and knew exactly how to get it. If she wanted to take him to Austin and risk her life so he could be happy- he couldn’t exactly stop her.

Ryan just hoped he’d be able to find some way to repay her in the end.

 

 


	3. Monsieur Ramsey, “Lord” Ryan and “Lady” Meg Turney

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan and Meg fake new identities, buy some fancy clothes, and infiltrate Ramsey's empire from the inside. What they find is nothing at all like they were expecting.

Chapter Three: Monsieur Ramsey, “Lord” Ryan and “Lady” Meg Turney

 

 

The plan was Meg’s idea.

Being an executive gangster, the easiest way to get the attention of Geoff Ramsey was a business proposition. They had little in common with him other than gun-slinging and bounty hunting- so it was decided that sticking to what they knew would likely be the easiest way to go about getting his attention.

That was how _Lord Ryan Haywood_ and _Lady Meg Turne_ y were born. The idea was that they would pose as wealthy business partners, interested in purchasing a few of his finest gunslingers to help protect the Haywood-owned lands. Despite not speaking to his father in weeks, Ryan had no problem claiming his name and using it to his advantage. With any luck, maybe it would come back to bite the family one day soon and his father would be carted off and thrown into jail for the misdeeds they were about to carry out.

Meg penned the letter to Ramsey’s known right-hand-man, Jack Pattillo. They hadn’t expected much after their first attempt at contact, happy to go back to bounty hunting and checking back at the post office every week or so to check if he replied, but Jack surprised them by getting back in contact only a fortnight later.

Geoff liked to do his business in person, apparently, so they were sent an invite to one of the many taverns he privately owned on the side to establish a meeting. If that went well, Geoff would happily discuss an offer with them- but only if he _liked_ them.

Ryan hoped he was likeable enough. By forging cheques with his father’s signature he’d managed to buy some fine clothes including a pressed blue jacket with golden accenting for himself and a sparkling deep red dress for Meg. They both knew that Geoff would not be impressed with the two of them in their slap-dash hunting clothes that spent most of their nights on the forest floor.

They even paid to hire out a carriage for the night, having it drop them off outside the _Off Topic_ bar. A scrappy kid looking for food on the streets was instructed to watch over their horses and their belongings with a heavy promise of four dollars if his task was completed well.

The entire plan was set. _Nothing really could go wrong_ , or at least, that’s what Meg insisted to him. Those thoughts didn’t reassure Ryan as he watched her confidently step forwards, ringing the shrill bell of the tavern. She looked back at him and smiled, but Ryan couldn’t quite match her enthusiasm. If worst came to worst, it was entirely within the realm of possibility that the next time they’d leave the tavern, it would be in a body bag. Meg was willing to die, and all for _him_. Ryan was at least glad that in that version of events he would die too- because he didn’t think he could live long with the painful burden of Meg’s blood on his hands.

The door opened slowly, like the gates to heaven, and they were met with a tall, skinny boy. His skin was faintly tanned, hair floppy and brown around his forehead. He was dressed, oddly enough, in a black-and-white French maid’s outfit, complete with pinny, lace headpiece and patent black shoes paired with crisp white socks.

“Welcome to Achievement Hunter’s Off Topic.” He said with a well-rehearsed smile, stepping aside so they could walk into the room. Looking it around, it seemed like any other house, except there was loud music trickling down from upstairs, and in the room to the left of them, Ryan could see men gathered around tables, drinking and gambling.

And then there was this boy, with his strange accent and stick-thin legs protruding from the full skirt of his uniform. Meg’s character hadn’t yet broken as she spoke to him, introducing themselves, but Ryan felt his own slipping. Something about the building put him on edge. It felt _unclean._

“Lord and Lady!” a man with dark red hair and an impressive beard dressed in a crisp maroon suit and cowboy boots with golden gleaming spurs appeared from behind a closed door. “Welcome.” He shook both their hands, smiling widely. “I’m glad you got my letter. Please, Gavin will lead us upstairs.”

“Right this way!” Gavin smiled. He walked up the stairs slowly so that they could follow, Jack talking at great pace as he explained to them the best way to take Mr. _Geoff Ramsey_ if they wanted their proposition to be successful.

“Only address him as Monsieur Ramsey unless he tells you otherwise,” he began, sounding a little nervous as they grew closer to the second level of the building. “-oh, and don’t say anything else that isn’t English because he doesn’t know a word of French and you’ll only embarrass him. Always look him in the eyes when talking to him. Don’t let your gaze linger on Michael for too long, otherwise he’ll take offence.” He relayed the points off like a list, and Ryan found himself nodding along. Meg seemed calm as ever, and said nothing.

“Got it, don’t look at Michael.” Ryan muttered, more to himself than anyone else, but Jack and Gavin both seemed to catch it. Gavin smirked to himself, glancing at the floor.

“No, you’ll look at him-” a slight laugh from Jack’s lips made him only feel more uneasy, along with Gavin’s white smile and eager nodding along with Jack’s statement. “If you avoid looking at him, Michael _and_ Geoff will take offence and you really don’t want both of them pissed. Look at him long and often enough to be polite. Don’t linger if you want to keep all your fingers. Geoff is very protective over his property.”

 _His property_. Ryan thought. _Like Ray? Could he be here?_

The private office was on the second floor. Gavin scurried forwards to open the door, and announced their presence to the room, which consisted of a private bar with a barman, a beautiful chaise lounge and some armchairs where Geoff was sat in front of a fire, and then, hanging from the ceiling in beautiful silk ropes, a pale spinning boy with wild curly hair.

Ryan’s eyes widened. He assumed _that_ was Michael.

He was already uncomfortable with the tiny outfit Gavin was sporting, the bounce of his skirt being more than distracting as he had lead them up the stairs. That, paired with this magical pale nymph spinning from aerial silks for _Monsieur Ramsey’s_ viewing pleasure was almost too much for him.

Meg placed her hand on his arm comfortingly as they approached the sofas. He could only thank God that she decided to stick with him, because alone, he would’ve tripped at every hurdle thus far.

Geoff was dressed in an impeccable all-white suit that was completely unstained, the only spring of colour being a red flower, which was pinned to his lapel. He wore a pale, cream Stenson on his head and boots that were a similar startling white colour, silver spurs gleaming as they caught the light of the flames in the crackling fireplace. He placed an empty, crystal glass on a wooden side table, and as soon as it touched the surface Gavin sprung to life, dashing over to the bar to fetch a replacement and swap it for the empty one. Geoff reached over as soon as he did so, and took the drink to his lips. Then, when Jack cleared his throat, he turned and smiled at them invitingly, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips.

Gavin bent down to light the rolled tobacco with a match. Geoff’s smile was crooked, and the thick dark moustache he wore above his top lip curled along with it.

“Friends! Come, sit.” His blue eyes sparkled as he nodded over to the armchairs. Ryan and Meg obliged, silently. “Drink?” he offered. Ryan shook his head.

“No thank you.”

“And you, ma’am?” he offered. Meg smiled politely.

“Soda water, if it isn’t too much trouble.” She answered sweetly. In response, Geoff waved a hand and Gavin rushed back over to the bar. Geoff pulled his cigarette from his lips and flicked the burnt head into the ashtray. In front of them, Michael continued to spin.

“Lord and Lady Haywood, I presume?”

Meg smirked. “You presume wrong.” She sat forwards as Gavin rested her drink down on the table, and extended a hand. “Lady Meg Turney. Nice to meet you, Monsieur Ramsey.”

Geoff didn’t move to meet her gesture immediately. He looked firstly, over at Ryan, who said nothing. Then, after another few seconds, he leant forwards and shook her hand firmly.

“She’s not your wife?” he asked, afterwards. Ryan shook his head.

“No. Strictly business partners.” He answered.

“Hm.”

“Is that a problem, Monsieur Ramsey?” Meg asked, sweetness quickly turning sour. Ryan knew that Meg had incredible patience for a lot of things, but (and quite rightly too, in his opinion) sexism was never one of them. Thankfully, Geoff shook his head.

“No, not at all! Ask anyone, I have nothing but respect for the women who get stuck in to the business world.” He smiled. “Besides, I’ve always believed your side of the species is far more evolved intelligently anyway. Just ask my wife.”

Ryan was confused then. Michael was making eyes at Geoff, and Geoff was grinning right back at him like he wanted to devour him for breakfast. Yet, at the mention of his wife, nobody stilled. Not even Meg.

“-Quite frankly,” Geoff continued, turning to look back over at Meg as her red dress hitched up around the bottom of her knees and her pale shins were exposed. “This man is a fool if he isn’t completely in love with you. You are _captivating_ , you know that?”

Meg lowered her eyes, fluttering her lashes towards him. “Why thank you, sir.”

“So, we’re here to make you an offer-” Ryan started, desperate to escape from the uncomfortably sexual tension that radiated throughout the building but Geoff successfully silenced him with a wave of his hand.

“Here.” He then waved his cigarette in Gavin’s direction, motioning for him to scuttle over. Then, he raised an eyebrow at Michael, who dismounted the silks and stood beside him, back arched and feet pointed, dragging softly against the wood of the floor. His and Gavin’ arms touched. “These are my boys, Michael and Gavin. Do you admire them?”

“Very much so.” Meg nodded. Then, after a beat too long of silence, she elbowed Ryan.

“Yes!” he sat up awkwardly. “They’re… very lovely.” He looked over at them both, expecting nothing but misery in their pretty eyes. But, surprisingly, neither Michael nor Gavin seemed distressed at the behaviour at all. Both were smiling, Michael pointedly so in his direction. When he saw Ryan make eye contact back, he winked. Ryan blushed.

“Perhaps we should talk business?” he asked, awkwardly shifting on the sofa.

“Nonsense.” Geoff waved Michael and Gavin back to their positions, and looked over at Ryan and Meg with a friendly smile. “Save the business talk for tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Meg asked. Geoff nodded.

“I’m inviting you for dinner in the big house.” He said, before turning his attention back to Michael, who was laid on his back as the silks held him in place. “A feast, banquet even,” he continued. “Then we can properly discuss business.”

Meg sipped from her soda water. Ryan sat back stiffly in the armchair, and the two shared a look.

“Just go with it.” She whispered to him. Ryan nodded.

“I’ll… uh, take that drink then, if it’s still available.”

Startling them all, Michael included, Geoff clapped loudly. “That’s what I like to hear. Let’s make a real evening of it. We ride home tomorrow! Michael, duchess, get back in those pretty silks and put on a show for these lovely people?”

“Of course Monsieur Ramsey!” Michael grinned, sauntering back over to the hanging curtains. He did a few stretches of his soft, pale body, turning to grin flirtatiously at Ryan, who looked away before he pulled himself back up.

“Gavin,” Geoff paused to neck the rest of his alcohol. “Fetch me another drink. And a refill for Lady Turney.”

Gavin nodded. “As you wish, Monsieur Ramsey. Sure I can’t tempt you with anything, Lord Haywood?” he looked over through hooded lashes, and Ryan noticed for the first time how green his eyes were. Geoff’s attention was focused solely on Michael, so he didn’t see the way Gavin leant over to pick up his empty glass, the skirt of his dress hiking up to reveal a black lacy garter, wrapped snug around his small thigh.

“I’m sure.” He nodded, heart hammering. “Thank you for the offer.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“The Big House”, as Geoff and the others affectionately referred to the Ramsey residence, was only an hour or so away from the Off Topic tavern, which Ryan supposed was quite convenient for a man like Geoff- who seemed to value good liquor over people. As a show of kindness (and more subtly, wealth) Geoff offered Ryan and Meg the chance to ride with him, in his garishly gilded carriage. The politely accepted, and Geoff ordered one of his other, lesser important entourage members to go and fetch their horses and belongings to be delivered _post haste._

They set off together, Geoff, Jack, Ryan, Meg and Geoff’s “boys”. Ryan wasn’t exactly sure what Geoff meant when he referred to them as that, so when they hopped out of the carriage one by one at a pit-stop (Gavin had the bladder the size of a grape, Michael harshly jibed to which Gavin responded: “But _Michael_ , people _like_ grapes!”) Meg had to quickly pull him to the side and explain what exactly it was that Geoff was saying when he looked over at Michael or Gavin with a vague smirk, patted them on the knee and mumbled, “My boys.”

Ryan returned to the carriage blushing red. He could only hope that Ray wasn’t also one of these “boys” that Geoff owned.

The Big House was a beautiful free-standing white building in the centre of a giant plantation. The entire structure, from the marble steps to the powdery pillars that held up the roof and the small porch above the giant front door was gilded with drips of gold, and they sparkled painfully in the Austin sunlight.

“Welcome to my humble abode!” Geoff joked, rushing up the steps to knock on the door as his workers took the carriage away. That left Ryan and Meg, stood at the bottom of the steps as Michael and Gavin rushed to Geoff’s side, Jack following not long after. The door opened, and two women stood in greeting.

The first, like Geoff, had tattoos adorning her slender arms. She was blonde, with a thick ring through the middle of her nose and a beautiful, navy dress that billowed from her waist and draped down to the floor. The woman beside her had red hair, a kind smile, and wasn’t dressed as regally. Also, in her arms, was some kind of official-looking records book, which she had been leafing through.

“Lord Haywood, Lady Turney this is my beautiful wife Griffon Ramsey.” He took Griffon by the hand and she stepped forwards, accepting the gentle kiss he placed on her lips before smiling at them politely. “And this,” he continued, reaching for the other woman, “is Lindsay, my personal assistant.” He kissed her hand, and she rolled her eyes playfully, pulling away. “She helps me with absolutely everything.”

“Not _everything_ ,” she joked, and they all laughed. Ryan stayed quiet. Meg forced a grin.

“No, I’ve got others for that.” Geoff’s eye sparkled as he reached for Michael’s hand, pulling him close and running a hand up his side salaciously. Michael turned and grinned at him, before batting Geoff away with a laugh. “aren’t they just to die for?” he thought aloud. “ _My_ _boys_.” He then looked over at Ryan for approval, who’s response was to nod awkwardly. “Travel _everywhere_ with me, don’t you?”

“Of course, Monsieur Ramsey!” the pair sung.

“There’s a new boy too, now,” Geoff explained, and Ryan perked up. “His name’s _Ray_ … I’ve got my eye on him for my third little lad.” He said thoughtfully. Ryan’s heart skipped a beat the moment he heard Ray’s name. It had been so long, and knowing that Ray could likely be only a few short feet away made his heart fall into his stomach.

“Ray, huh?” Meg was still somewhat in control of her basic motor functions, so she inquired casually and excellently, her hands tucked behind her back mocking thoughtfulness. Ryan had to credit her. She played the role of _Lady_ very well. “That’s quite a… _different_ name. Where’s he from?”

“Well I purchased him down in Georgia but he’s got Hispanic heritage, actually.” Geoff replied. “Sweetness,” he looked over to Michael as the group moved into the house, large doors closing behind them. “Where did Ray say he’s from?” his voice echoed through the tiled walls.

“Puerto Rico, Sir.” Michael replied confidently. Meg squeezed Ryan’s arm. “ _Really_ exotic- Gavin didn’t even know it was a real place, idiot!”

“Oi!”

“That’s… fascinating, Monsieur Ramsey!” Meg said, before Geoff had a chance to grow distracted by his _lads_ bickering. “All the way from Puerto Rico you say?”

“Tiny little tanned thing.” Geoff was happy to gloat as always, and for the first time, Ryan was glad he was such a show-boater when it came to his property. “Dark hair, dark eyes, little glasses. He’s absolutely _divine_ , honestly. Tiny, _tiny_ thing you see,” he grinned wolfishly at Ryan, “but he’s soft in all the right places. Picked him up for cheap by chance when Jack and I were passing through. Michael spotted him. Gavin _demanded_ I purchase him from that God awful auction house and give him a good life here.” He gestured around at the large house. Griffon nodded alongside him.

“He’s so cute!” Gavin added with a grin. Meg did smile at him, but it was clear that her attention was focused completely on Geoff.

“Well, I’ve travelled a lot around the South Americas but Ryan here is a country boy at heart,” she patted Ryan’s chest, and he jumped, startled. “Much like yourself, of course. Why, I’m sure he’s never even met a boy from Puerto Rico… have you, Rye?”

“Nope.” Ryan shook his head and lied, awfully. “Never.” Thankfully, Geoff didn’t seem to notice the sweat clinging to his collar.

“I’m sure he’d be _very_ interested in getting a chance to talk to this boy… one on one?” Meg controlled _Monsieur_ _Ramsey’s_ attention with a perfectly arched eyebrow and a wry, wicked smile that was then matched, spreading across Geoff’s face. Ryan was confused, but everyone else seemed in on the gag- Michael was pouting, and Gavin was glaring at the floor, envy flooding his face. Jack had his own knowing smile tickling the edges of his beard and even Griffon and Lindsay were looking at him differently. Ryan couldn’t understand why, until Geoff spoke.

“Ryan Haywood, you _sly_ dog. I’d be happy to let you indulge in my new one, if you’d like?”

“No fair!” Gavin interrupted before Ryan had a chance to choke on his own words in shock at what they were all so openly implying. “Why does Lord Haywood get first dibs?! I haven’t got to see him in a _week_ since we’ve been away.”

“Because, sweetness,” Geoff patted Gavin’s shoulder and then reached upward to cup his neck somewhat roughly. “Lord Haywood is our _guest_. ‘Aint that right?” at Gavin’s guilty nod, he was satisfied, and released him. “Right,” Geoff rubbed his hands together excitedly. “Lindsay- go down and fetch our Ray, get him ready and send him up to the room Lord Haywood will be staying in, if you please.” Lindsay moved to speak, but Geoff easily steam-rolled her, turning around and taking one of Meg’s hands into his. “Now, Mrs Turney- you must come into the garden and see some of my beautiful wife’s carvings, she’s very talented with a saw-”

“Uh, Monsieur Ramsey, Sir…” Lindsay interrupted. Geoff stilled.

“Yes? What’s the problem?”

Lindsay looked down to the ground nervously. “I’m not sure if that will be possible. With Ray.” She said.

Ryan frowned. “Why not?”

“Yeah, Lindsay.” Geoff nodded, one fist clenching slightly by his side. “Why on _earth_ would that not be possible?”

“Well, thing is Sir- he tried to run away _again_ yesterday when you were gone so now he’s being punished.” Lindsay explained, stepping backwards slightly as Geoff approached her with thunder in his eyes and a faint, frightening ghost of a smile on his face. Geoff Ramsey certainly had a fiery temper if the stories Meg had told were to be true, and Ryan was certain he didn’t want to see them. Lindsay seemed on edge, but not quite afraid. “He’s locked up in the basement for the next two days.” She told him.

Ryan felt pain in his chest as he remembered the first time he and Ray spoke. The same punishment, but sadly a much different crime. If he had to- he’d run down there and rescue him all over again, but thankfully, Geoff Ramsey seemed to already be doing the job for him.

“Well you better run down there and _un-punish_ him, mustn’t you?”

“But Sir, with all due respect-”

“Lindsay, darling, riddle me this.” Geoff held a hand in the air, and then rubbed it against his temples exasperated. “What is the _point_ of having the little Hispanic boy if you can’t get him out when the guests call, looking for a little Hispanic boy? _Hm_?” he was slightly aggressive, leaning forwards when he ordered her. Nobody else dared speak a word. Lindsay, however, didn’t show a shred of fear.

“Right. I suppose so Sir.” She nodded. “I’ll go and get him.”

Geoff’s face melted back into its signature smile, frighteningly fast. “Thanking you kindly.” He said, before turning to his boys and gesturing for them to move along with her. “Michael, Gavin, pretty doves- run down there with Lindsay and make sure Ray is all nice and cleaned up for Mr Lord Haywood here, won’t you? Can’t have him making a bad impression for himself, can we?”

“I’ll take you to your room, Mr Haywood.” Griffon smiled, bowing her head politely at him. Sharing a frightened look with Meg, who did her best to send him back a sense of reassurance both with her eyes and her smile as the small of her back was pushed forward by Geoff out towards the gardens, he allowed himself to be led up the stairs. Griffon was a kind enough lady, making casual conversation with him as they ascended, but Ryan found he could not even speak.

He was nervous to see Ray again. It had been so long- what if his lovely soulmate had forgotten what they had? Or- worse, even, given up on the idea that Ryan was coming back for him? Would Ray be angry that it had taken him so long to follow through on his promise? Ryan hoped not.

The room was lavishly decorated, and Ryan could imagine full well that Geoff didn’t hold back on the expenses taken to decorate his many, many owned properties. His reputation was built on showmanship, and with an appearance to keep up it made sense why he was so extravagant- with is impossibly crisp clothing and sculpted moustache and slowly growing harem of slim boys with mischievous smiles.

The décor didn’t settle his nerves. Every second he sat alone on the edge of the four poster bed, hands gripped tightly between his knees, eyes fixated on the door, his nerves only grew. He couldn’t imagine what Ray would be like, after so many months. Did he look the same? Had he grown in height? Put on weight? Lost it?

Two polite knocks came at the door.

“Sir. I’ve got a visitor for you!” he heard Griffon’s honeyed call. Ryan’s heart thudded, and he scrambled to stand. He stilled in front of the door, taking a calming breath and resting his forehead against the wood. Despite the joy he would surely feel laying eyes on Ray again, Griffon was still there. They had a plan to follow.

He opened the door, and of course, devastatingly so, his eyes fell directly onto Ray.

His clothes were similar to the dress Gavin had been wearing, but Ray looked infinitely better in it. The black material matched his hair and glasses, the white of the lace sparkled against his skin tone. White stockings crept up to his knees, his ankles shook nervously in black leather shoes. Of course, Ray probably assumed that whoever this mystery suitor was, his only intention was to have his way with him so his head was bowed and a pensive frown creased his brow. When he looked up, however, tears flooded his eyes as his breath caught in his throat and he realised clearly that this wasn’t the case.

“Thank you!” Ryan grabbed Ray by the wrist and pulled him inside, behind him, before pushing the door all the way closed. Griffon smirked at him through the crack.

“I won’t keep you any longer, Sir.” She winked, before pulling the door closed and allowing Ryan the privilege of being alone with the one person he had _dreamed_ of being alone with since the day they were parted. Watching Ray, dragged from his bedroom by his hair, had made him regret not cherishing the moments they spent together more. Ryan rested his head at the door again.

“Rye?”

Just that, the tiny questioning noise from Ray’s mouth made Ryan’s insides light up. He turned, choking on a breath as his eyes flooded with tears and suddenly, he couldn’t hold back anymore. He marched forwards, stopping in front of Ray, before cupping his face and pressing their lips together.

Ray kissed back.

Narrow, skinny arms reached up and wrapped around him, and in turn Ryan lowered his hands to Ray’s waist, lifting him completely off the ground. Ray wrapped his legs around Ryan’s waist tightly and Ryan cupped him by the bottom of his layered skirt, hiking him up into his arms before stumbling over to the bed and sitting back on the edge, Ray wrapped in his lap.

“Oh god,” Ray sobbed between feather light kisses to his lips and his face. “Oh Ryan. _Fuck_. I never thought I’d see you again!”

“I’ve missed you _so_ _much_.” Ryan replied, grabbing Ray by the face to pull him back so he could look at him, really _stare_ at him and take in every detail of his face he’d been scared he’d forgotten. Ray’s cheeks were still full and flushed red from shock. His hair was actually longer, dark curls sprouting and springing around his ears and tickling the back of his neck. When Ryan lowered his hands and felt down his waist his body felt the same, petite but soft, familiar, inviting.

“How are you here?” Ray asked, pushing forwards to grab Ryan’s face with his own hands and resting their foreheads together. “What’s going on?”

“I fled.” Ryan answered. “The moment my father sent you away, I was locked in my room for weeks. After that, I began planning. I bided my time, saved up some more cash and took off with Edgar. I met a gunslinger named Meg Turney in the forest and she helped me here,” he reached up, pulling at one of Ray’s hands to intertwine it with his own. They still felt just as familiar and perfectly fitting as always, and Ryan felt relieved. “Back here, to you!” he continued, almost breathless from both the physical and mental exhaustion that the past few days had brought. It all caught up with him, weeks and months of sleeping rough, riding, hunting, working. It all rose to the surface and bubbled over when Ray was back, in his lap, where he belonged. It was both incredibly exhilarating and devastatingly overwhelming.

With his free hand, Ray wiped the lone tear from Ryan’s face as he continued to speak.

“We made it here under the guise of business partners and gunslingers, looking to go into business with Ramsey. After dinner tonight, I want you to meet me, right here. We’re going to flee the premises, you, I and Meg. Then I can give you everything I promised. Freedom, a home, a life. I’ve done all of this, run away from home and risk my life, to be with _you_.”

“Ryan…” Ray whispered. “I don’t know what to say. I just… I can’t believe you’re here. But… what if Geoff finds out? He can be wicked, and cruel when people cross him.”

Ryan gritted his teeth, before placing a gentle kiss on Ray’s lips. It wasn’t a thought he’d dwelled on, more out of fear than anything else, that Geoff Ramsey would be a dangerous man to cross. Meg had told him the rumours. Geoff Ramsey was a man who’d done awful, awful things. “Let me and Meg worry about that. For now, I just want to be happy that I’m here, with you. I’ve missed you so much, Ray. I _love_ you.”

“I love you too.” Ray nodded eagerly, and a smile broke its way through the tears. “So much, Ryan. I’ve missed you more than anything. But why are you pretending to be a gunslinger? Surely you could just afford to buy me back?”

Shamefully, Ryan hung his head and then shook it. “I’m so sorry Ray. I wish it was that easy but… I ran from home, my father, everything. I left it all behind. I couldn’t stand it there anymore- not without _you-”_

“-but Ryan, you didn’t have to do that for me!”

“Yes I did.” Ryan’s tone was deadly serious. “I love you Ray and I made you a promise that I would make you free and I would marry you. And, I intend to keep that promise no matter _what_ it takes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos + Comments (questions too!) are always loved and appreciated. You guys are the reason I do this whole fan-fic writing lark. Hope you enjoy.


	4. Dinner in The Big House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meg and Ryan's plan is put into action over dinner with some... unforeseeable circumstances.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T/W for some threatening content and mentions of past physical abuse. Some real Django Unchained shit.

Chapter Four: Dinner in The Big House

 

 

 

After Ray went back to his duties, Ryan found himself trailing behind on an extensive group tour, led by an excitable Gavin and a sultry, sarcastic Michael of Geoff’s manor. Ryan didn’t pay much attention as they strolled around at a snail’s pace, Jack gloating about the architecture and Griffon chipping in with tiny, intimate details and storied that brought a spark of life to each of the rooms. Instead, he was eagle eyed, staring around and looking out for a flash of black and white that surely belonged to Ray. It helped significantly that the only three in traditional maids outfits were Michael, Gavin and Ray. The rest of the staff that bustled around the house were dressed far plainer, in long brown dresses with white and grey aprons. Ryan supposed that Michael and Gavin (and now, Ray) were just the favourites. He wasn’t sure what that meant for Ray. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

Dinner was taken a few hours later, in the grandiose dining room on the ground floor of the house.

The table was giant, polished wood gleaming from beneath silky white place-mats and decorated china. Ryan turned the decorated golden fork around in his hands and marvelled at the detail. It reminded him of the fine china kept in cabinets in his father’s office, only ever brought out for special occasions. For Geoff to have gone to this much trouble, he must’ve considered the occasion incredibly _special._

“Michael that’s _mine-_ ”

“Shut _up_ Gav-” Michael turned his nose up and sipped from the sparkling glass that he’d snatched from where it had been previously placed down, in Gavin’s place. “I’m doing you a favour. You know how _embarrassing_ you are when you’re drunk.”

“But _Michael-”_

“Enough!” Geoff’s fist pounded against the table and the entire structure vibrated, plates clattering quietly. Michael and Gavin fell silent. “For some reason,” he glared at them both, before turning and smiling at the rest of the table which consisted of Ryan, Meg, Griffon and Jack. Then, he looked back at the culprits. “I’ve decided to let you sit here at the big table with us businessfolk. _Don’t_ make me regret it.”

Ryan winced at the threat. Michael and Gavin didn’t seem too _afraid_ , more obedient as they sat up a little straighter and kept their mouths closed. Michael placed the glass back down on the table between them both. Gavin didn’t reach for it, instead sipping from the small tumbler of water that had also been laid in front of him.

“So, Lord Haywood, Lady Turney- I must tell you about some of my finest gunslingers.” Geoff leant forwards from his seat at the head of the table, elbows rested on the top. “First of all, I’ve got a great new sharpshooter- name of Jeremy Dooley. He and his partner were working as bandits in the woods, but I’ve recently acquired them-”

Ryan faded out after that. Geoff talked and talked and talked, gloating stories and name after name, none of which Ryan recognised. Meg seemed enthralled though, nodding along with every sentence and even raising her eyebrows at a few of the names Geoff was dropping. Ryan couldn’t tell if she was acting, or genuinely impressed. He supposed that Geoffrey Ramsey was a fairly impressive man especially to someone in her line of work.

Michael and Gavin continued to bicker every now and then, but Geoff’s sharp tongue kept them in check. Jack laughed jovially and pitched in with a  few tales of his own, whilst Griffon remained thoughtful and elegant throughout the meal, listening to them all intently before adding her own intelligent, well-thought out responses. She was a complete contrast to her husband, who was loud and messy. Geoff talked with his mouthful, pounded the table when he laughed, drank whiskey after whiskey. Griffon behaved like a lady raised in finery, despite the tattoos covering her exposed arms that rivalled Geoff’s own, which Meg had talked about as if they were stuff of legend. Geoff acted like the stable boy he truly was- but his wife watched him with genuine adoration and love in her gaze. Ryan couldn’t understand it, but when he looked over at Gavin and Michael, they shared the same stare. There was just something about Geoff that made him so charming, despite his belligerence and often inappropriate behaviours.

The dinner was perfectly nice, and Ryan had to admit, it was some of the best food his lips had touched in what felt like decades. However, it didn’t stop him from feeling edge throughout. He kept catching glimpses of Ray as the doors to the kitchen swung open and shut when course after course was brought towards them, working and tidying in the kitchen. He’d come out every now and then with a jug of fresh ice water or a bottle of Geoff’s whiskey, making his way around the table to refill their drinks. Every time he did, he’d catch eyes silently with Ryan, and Ryan would have to bite the inside of his lip harshly to stop himself from crying out with a distraught call of his name. It had barely been an hour, but he missed the feeling of Ray in his arms already. Now he had brushed his fingers across it again- it was both baffling and impressive how either had survived so long without it.

Lindsay was stood in the corner of the room, entering with a few serving girls behind her, talking straight and strict as she ordered them around and jotted things down in that same leather bound book. Occasionally her eyes would flit back over to the table, checking everything was in order and Geoff would wave her over, beg for her to join them until she politely refused- but insisted she would be there for the after-dinner drinks.

“Never met a woman who could hold her liquor so well!” Geoff laughed, patting Lindsay on the shoulder as she stood by the table. “Aside from my darling wife, of course.” He then looked over to Griffon, reaching across the table to hold her hand gently. She smirked.

“We’ve had contests in the past. I think it’s all even, right Lindsay?”

Lindsay grinned. “I don’t know. I still think you go easy on me.”

The table dissolved into light chatter, mainly steered by Geoff. Ryan kept quiet but Meg was well and truly alive, cheeks tinged pink slightly from the harsh liquor that kept being refilled in her glass as she laughed and joked along with them all. It wasn’t that Ryan didn’t feel comfortable around the Ramsey family- that was far from the truth. It was more that he felt _too_ comfortable. Despite his questionable morals, Ryan found that he too liked Geoff quite a lot. Griffon was also very kind and interesting to talk to, Jack was friendly, and Michael and Gavin were more than amusing, throwing small insults at each other and gazing over at Geoff when he drummed his fingers on the table and smiled at them.

The doors swung open again, and Ray made his way through with the water jug. He stopped by Gavin, refilling his glass, but his eyes were fixed on Ryan, who also couldn’t look away. The conversation still continued around them, so Ryan didn’t fear that they were being watched. Ray gave him a small smile.

“You better watch out, Geoff,” Griffons voice floated into his ears and suddenly, Ryan could feel eyes bearing into him. When he looked over to her, she was smirking again. She had _seen_. “I don’t think our Ray has much interest in _you_ anymore.”

Ryan was frowning slightly, wondering what _anymore_ could possibly mean. Ray was blushing, hanging his head slightly. Geoff didn’t pay either of them much attention.

 “And why’s that, my love?” he asked, smiling. Griffon shrugged.

“No reason- just- seems like he’s only got eyes for Ryan now.”

A blush spread rapidly across Ryan’s face as Geoff’s eyes flicked over to him and a sickly smile spread across his face. Ray was stood ridged, stiff, fingers clinging to the water jug as if he was afraid he would drop it. Then, from the corner of his eye, Ryan noticed Lindsay, still at the back of the room, watching them intently.

“Did my Ray teach you a few things, Lord Haywood?” Geoff teased. “Did he _entertain_ you? He’s very good at that- _entertaining_ people.”

Ray’s blush deepened and underneath the table, Ryan’s fingers curled around the gun he was still wearing around his waist. But no- he couldn’t do that. Despite his lude accusations, nothing good would come from blowing Geoff’s brains out across the table. If Lindsay’s pistol didn’t catch him first, he was sure Michael would spring up from the table and strangle him with his bare hands. Griffon would probably take pleasure from carving his limbs with her impressive machinery.

Ryan caught eyes with Lindsay briefly, before staring back into his food.

“No. Of course not.” He mumbled. Meg leaned across the table.

“See, Ryan’s trying to be modest but he really is quite taken with your Ray, Monsieur Ramsey.” She smiled, diverting the groups attention back over to herself. “In fact,” she folded her arms across the table and smiled sweetly in Geoff’s direction “We _were_ wondering if would you ever be willing to part ways with such a sweet thing?”

Geoff glanced over at Ray, who was still silent and completely still. Then, he looked back over at Meg and shrugged his shoulders. “Hm… well, in usual circumstances no-” he mumbled through a mouthful of food. Griffon glared with him, a gesture which was returned, but Geoff did adhere to her unwritten rules by remaining quiet for a few seconds, chewing and swallowing before wiping the corner of his mouth with a red silk cravat kept in the breast pocket of his white shirt. “… _but_ if Lord Haywood could make me a truly _persuading_ offer,” he looked over at Ryan, who sat up a little straighter. “…which I am very certain he _could_ , I suppose I could be persuaded to consider.”

Gavin’s mouth fell open, flabbergasted. He dropped his fork onto the table. “But _Geoff_ -”

“-hush up.” Geoff barely spared him a glance but Gavin flinched as if he’d been shot. Geoff didn’t react, instead keeping his attention focused solely on Ryan. His eyes were so blue, a strange, immortal shade of cool ice and they made a shiver breeze down Ryan’s spine. “Lord Haywood, sir? You looking to made a deal for that pretty thing?” he nodded over to Ray, who was still standing awkwardly by the table. He then gestured over to Gavin, “I’ll throw in this squawking bird for free if you’re lucky.”

“But-”

“He’s only messing Gav,” it wasn’t obvious, but Ryan caught the way Michael reached down, probably resting his hand over Gavin’s comfortingly. “Right Monsieur Ramsey?”

Geoff softened when he looked at Michael. “Right you are, angel. I could stand to lose my darling Gavin.” He reached across, and Gavin took his hand gratefully. “How long have you been with me, dove? Tell Lord Ryan.”

“Well, I’m twenty two now and I was seventeen when you bought me.” Gavin sat up, a proud grin blossoming over his face. The smile was shared by Michael, who had turned to watch him, eyes rolling affectionately. “That’s _seven years!”_ Gavin exclaimed. “Can you believe it?!”

“That you can do math? No _way_!”

“Enough.” Geoff cut off the endearing display, and the two were quiet again. “Ryan, let’s talk business.” He tapped the table. “Make me an offer.”

“Uh, well…” Ryan cleared his throat awkwardly. He caught eyes with Ray again briefly, before dragging them way and looking back over at Geoff. He’d have to be serious about this, for Geoff to even believe and entertain them. He couldn’t let his emotions get the best of him. Geoff obviously had affection for Ray, that was clear in the defensive posture his body had taken on, sitting forwards with his arms rested against the table, shoulders hunched, hat held by its brim between his hands. Ryan swallowed thickly. Geoff had bought Ray for $350, and had likely been surprised at his worth. That meant he wouldn’t part with him for anything less than a ridiculously high profit. “Two thousand dollars?”

Jack choked on his whiskey. Michael and Gavin wore twin dumbfounded expressions. Even Griffon raised an eyebrow, an undignified laugh slipping out of her remarkably professional façade as she leant back into the chair. Lindsay was frowning, and without the others noticing, had time to move forwards and tap Ray on the shoulder, leading him silently out the room. Ryan didn’t have time to question her- his attention was fixed completely on Geoff, as he tried to decipher the man’s frankly unreadable reaction to the surely spectacular offer.

He hadn’t moved a muscle since Ryan had spoken, the same thoughtful yet protective expression on his face. Then, slowly, as Ryan looked over with expectancy, a small smile blossomed across his lips.

“Well, Mr Haywood.” He chuckled, reaching up to straighten the white had atop his head. “Now you _certainly_ have my attention.”

Ryan let out a relived half-laugh, and looked over at Meg, who was grinning. Soon, Geoff was joining them, leaning back and sipping at his whiskey with a faint chuckle. Jack was laughing too, shaking his head in disbelief. Michael and Gavin looked distantly distraught, but certainly knew better than to try intervene.

The door swung open again, and a slightly shaken looking Ray walked in, taking his place stood not far from the table, against the wall with his hands behind his back. As the table dissolved into excited chatter between Meg, Jack, Griffon and Geoff, Ryan watched Lindsay make her way around, before stopping behind Geoff and leaning down to mutter something into his ear. However, before she could finish her sentence, Geoff held his hand up.

“Lindsay, sweetheart- I know you mean well but I’m talking business here.” He gestured at the table, a flashy smile sent to Meg and then Ryan. Lindsay’s lips were pressed into a thin line.

“It’s an emergency sir.” She said.

“So you deal with it!” Geoff laughed. “That’s what I hired you for, isn’t it?”

“But Sir-”

His tone was firm. “I’m _busy_ , Lindsay. Don’t make me tell you again.”

Lindsay took a second before responding, straightening her back and letting out a small sigh. Ryan looked across as she glanced over at Ray, who had his head hung guiltily.

She gritted her teeth. “It will only take a second.”

“Fine!” Geoff yelled, and everyone at the table flinched, Griffon included. Geoff forced himself upwards, chair screeching against the floor as he pushed it away roughly. “God _Damn_ it.” He glared fiercely at Lindsay, before turning and looking back over at the table with a forced smile, smoothing the lapel of his jacket. “Please excuse me folks,” he tipped his hat. “I’ll be _right_ back.”

Griffon- the only one who had managed to regain some kind of composure- sat up and turned to smile at Ryan.

“Well, Lord Haywood, why don’t you entertain us with a few tales of your glamourous life as a Lord whilst we wait for my husband’s return?” she suggested. Ryan gulped, looking over to Meg who nodded tensely. Then, he risked another look over at Ray, who was still in the corner of the room, hands shaking as he folded silk napkins into neat triangles. He didn’t dare look over.

“Right-” he nodded awkwardly. “Well, once when I was a boy my father took me to the circus-”

The entire story was fabricated, and Ryan surprised himself with how enthralled he had everyone at the table with the fictional tale of a tiger attacking the animal trainer before the man managed to coax the wild beast back to rationalisation, not harming a hair on its head in the process of detangling his own arm from the creature’s teeth. In reality, Ryan _had_ begged his father to go and see any of the many travelling circuses that ran through their state, but he’d always been too busy with “business” for them to attend.

It passed the time well enough, Gavin’s genuinely intriguing questions challenging his ability to improvise whilst still making the story believable enough. He was halfway through describing the genuine terror yet curiosity his fictional self had felt at the tender age of seven when faced with a man inches away from sudden death when Geoff, stern-faced and sweaty, stalked back into the room and lowered himself silently in his chair. Lindsay, on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen.

“Geoff! You’re back.” Despite his dishevelled appearance and general air of tension, Griffon smiled over at her husband. Geoff didn’t look up in return. “Ryan was just telling us about this incredible experience he had-”

“Ray, c’mere.” Geoff’s stare was fixed on the centre of the table, but his arm reached out to beckon Ray over. Griffon’s mouth set into a thin, irritated line, clearly unimpressed with being interrupted so curtly, but sensing that something was very wrong, she chose to stay quiet, leaning back into her chair. Ray jumped up once his name was called, and he looked nervous. Since Geoff and Lindsay had left the room he’d been completely on edge, arranging the napkins over in the corner with shaking hands, avoiding eye contact with anyone else in the room. Ryan felt the tension of the room amplify severely as Geoff repeated himself, “Come here.”, and stiffly, Ray walked over until he was stood beside the man of the house.

“W-What is it, Monsieur Ramsey?”

Geoff ignored his question. Instead, his hand settled at the small of Ray’s back.

“So,” he looked across the table, to Ryan and let out a brief, almost sinister, chuckle. “Ryan- my apologies- _Lord_ Ryan- where are my manners? I just wanted to know, when you had little Ray here upstairs-” he patted Ray’s back slightly, and the boy jumped beneath his touch. “-did you get a chance to get his clothes off or did you fulfil your southern-gentlemanly disposition and just talk to him for a while?”

Ryan’s cheeks pinkened deeply, and he frowned and the blatant vulgarity and underlying sense of suspicion in Geoff’s voice. He looked over briefly at Meg, who gave the shortest, most unsure shrug. She didn’t seem sure what his angle was either. It was clear that Monsieur Ramsey was working completely off script. Everyone else at the table looked equally baffled at Geoff’s sudden and intrusive questioning, but none of them dared speak out to or against him. The anger rolled off him in silent waves and they all felt it, hairs on the back of Ryan’s arms standing underneath the sleeves of his expensive jacket. Ray almost trembled where he was stood beside the powerful head of the house. Ryan decided quickly that his safest bet was just to play along, and maybe, they could get through this without any danger.

“We just talked, of course.” He answered, somewhat truthfully.

“Well- you haven’t seen his best feature then, have you?” Geoff surprised them all by switching his stern scowl into a broad smile in an instant before turning and looking up at Ray, who’s bottom lip was beginning to quiver slightly. A slow, sadistic grin spread across Geoff’s face, and Ryan caught Michael and Gavin, both tense as he spoke. “Ray, dearest, turn yourself around for me.”

Ray’s face fell, a sudden realisation washing over him that Ryan couldn’t understand. His fists gripped tighter and a light whimper escaped from his pert lips.

“Monsieur Ramsey- please, don’t.”

“Turn around.” Geoff instructed, quiet in his voice, but his eyes were screaming as they bore into Ray’s. The boy looked away. “I won’t ask again.”

Geoff rose to his feet as Ray took a few shaky steps, turning so that his back was to the table. Michael and Gavin seemed more one edge than anyone, worried looks shot across to each other every few seconds or so as everyone else’s eyes remained fixed on Geoff and Ray. Atop the table Gavin’s hand moved across and wrapped itself in Michael’s nervously.

“You see, Ryan,” Geoff began to speak, dragging a finger down the length of Ray’s arm painfully slowly. Ray’s jaw clenched audibly, and Ryan’s own followed suit. Geoff either didn’t notice, or didn’t care.

“I found Ray in this dingy little auction house out in the dregs of Austin and well… with such a cheap price for a tiny waist,” a sordid smirk crossed his features, amused at his own cheap joke as his hands moved south, settling just below Ray’s waist before rising, almost sensual in its gentleness, back up to the back panel of the dress were tiny metal clasps held the fabric together. He popped the first one, and Gavin’s hand grabbed Michael’s tighter. “How could I resist, right?” he looked over at his guests.

“Please-” Ray’s voice was barely a whisper, but Ryan caught it. “Don’t show him.”

“Geoff, I’m sure that’s enough.” Griffon chipped in with rough bite behind the usual smoothness of her voice, but Geoff didn’t seem like he was ready to pay her any mind. His fingers worked surprisingly gently as the undid the buttons of Ray’s dress one by one, each revealing another slither of tanned skin. Ray’s back, at first, was just as smooth and perfect as Ryan remembered it, but as each clasp was released and the garment opened further and further, red, angry marks were revealed. Once Geoff reached the bottom, he paused, fingers pinching the last button. Most of his body was covering Ray’s modesty, at least from Ryan’s angle, but when he looked over to Meg, tears had filled her eyes. She was staring, fixated at the scene laid before her, mouth ajar. Meg had seen something. Something Ryan hadn’t yet caught sight of.

“Then, of course, I saw why he was so cheap.”

 Geoff popped the last button open before taking a single, deafening step away from Ray, revealing to Ryan the brutal, devastating red scars that littered his narrow, golden back. Ryan gritted his teeth, and shock immediately washed over his features.

 Ray had been _whipped_ , eight or nine thick lashes covering the expanse of his skim. The scars still looked painful, barely faded, only confirming to Ryan that it was definitely his father’s personal handiwork. Geoff was watching him with a pensive, bitter inquisition, but Ryan didn’t have the time to pretend. Ray had been _hurt_ \- he was still hurting, a tiny bead of blood oozing from one of the gashes as he hunched over, head dipping and a small, almost silent sob escaped his lips. “Shame he’s defective.” Geoff shrugged, running his thumb below the wound that was still open, wiping the blood away. He reached for his cravat, and cleaned it off. “But I don’t know. I think it adds character, don’t you?”

“That’s _enough_ Geoff.” Griffon said sternly, the ferocity in her glare rivalling the fire Ryan could feel in his stomach. “Nobody wants to see that over the dinner table.”

Geoff held gaze with her for a few seconds, before physically, he conceded. His posture shrank slightly, he averted his eyes, looking at the ground.

“Michael,” he mumbled, and the boy stiffened. “Do him up. Then, sit back down.”

Michael rushed to his feet, reaching over to Ray and pulling at the first few buttons with a frantic urgency as Ray continued to cry quietly. “I’ll take him upstairs-”

“-you’ll do as you’re told.” Geoff’s tone was that of a true disciplinarian, like a stern school teacher or had never sounded more serious, and Michael stiffened. For a second, he looked like he wanted to fight back, drag Ray away to cover his shame and protect his privacy, but of course, it was too late for all that. Not even Griffon was willing to fight Geoff today- let alone Michael. Geoff’s teeth ground against each other, audibly. “Do him up and sit you ass _back_ in that seat.” He bit.

Michael shot him a pained, distraught look, but Geoff wasn’t giving in. So instead he obeyed, doing Ray up as quickly as possible with a gentle touch as Geoff rooted around in the cabinet behind them, before scuttling back to his seat. Ray remained stood, and turned around slowly so he was facing the table once again. He looked over briefly to Ryan with thick tears stuck sitting in his eyes, but clearly it was too much, and instead he looked back down at the table, sniffing back another pained sob. Meanwhile, behind him, from the cabinet Geoff had retrieved a thick, heavy looking hammer with a beautifully polished ivory handle. It looked like everything else in the house did, flashy and expensive. Ryan wasn’t sure why he expected anything less.

Once Geoff had turned back to the table, Ray moved to leave, but Geoff reached out and stopped him, holding him by the back of the neck like a kitten. Two of his fingers rose, stroking the bottom of his dark hair gently.

“Easy there,” he murmured. “I didn’t say you could leave.”

Still, nobody at the table dared speak. Ryan couldn’t put into simple English what he was feeling as emotions swirled around his gut and his brain. He was torn- he was angry, enraged, frustrated, afraid, panicked, concerned, suspicious, intrigued. Geoff’s mind was almost whirring as whatever idea it was implanted by Lindsay over took his brain, and he walked Ray back over to the head of the table without his firm grip letting up. Ryan could feel his willpower thinning. He wouldn’t be able to sit idle for much longer.

“I’m gonna tell y’all a quick story, if you don’t mind.” Geoff said, resting the head of the hammer against the table. As it thudded against the surface, the china rattled again. “Once, a few short years ago, I went into business with an old friend. Let’s call him… _Sorola_. We were close, very close. He had all these incredible ideas about our company and our brand and all the amazing things we could do. Real smart too he was- with numbers and money and stuff like that which I couldn’t do! I trusted him, implicitly.” He dragged the hammed across the table slightly and the claw caught against the wood of the table, making thin strips of it curl upwards. “Then, you know what the bastard did to me?” he looked over at Ryan, raising an eyebrow. Silently, with his teeth gritted, Ryan shook his head. Ray squirmed as Geoff’s grip tightened. “Asshole _double crossed_ me. fixed the books and stole a thousand dollars before trying to skip town with his new wife. So guess what I did.”

Nobody spoke. Geoff frowned. “Well?” he looked over at Meg. “Any guesses?”

Tears clung to her eyelashes stubbornly. “You killed him?” she asked, voice thick and shaking. Geoff grinned.

“Clever girl!” he yelled. “You see, what I did was- I took this hammer here,” he lifted it from the table and took a swing at the air. Gavin flinched as he did so, and his hands shook as he attempted to grab his glass of water before the hammer hit it. He wasn’t successful, and the glass smashed, liquid coating his placemat. “I took this _exact_ hammer here and bashed in both their fucking _skulls!_ ” the last word was said with a shout, as suddenly he forced Ray down with the hand on his neck, so that he was completely bent over the table with his face pressed into the wood. Everyone flinched- Ryan couldn’t even bring himself to shout, but tears flooded his eyes instantly and a strangled gasp escaped his lips. Gavin screamed, grabbing onto an equally dazed Michael tightly. Jack reached forwards, as if he could stop Geoff from pushing the head of the hammer through Ray’s sparkling brain, and Meg simply sobbed, tears rolling down her cheeks. The only person who didn’t flinch was Griffon, but the look on her face as she stared up at Geoff said everything that simple words couldn’t. He didn’t look back at her, face twisted in rage as he reached behind himself to prepare for an almighty swing of the hammer, like a crazed god.

“You see what you’ve done!” he roared, looking over at Ryan with fire burning through the ice in his eyes. “Think you can double cross _me?_ Waste _my_ damn time? _Lord_ Haywood my _ass_!”

“No please!” Ryan yelled as Meg cried out again, before jumping to his feet with his gun pointed shakily in Geoff’s direction. “Don’t hurt him!”

“You better start talking truth Ryan Haywood,” Geoff didn’t even still when the gun was pointed at him. He remained perfectly poised, and Ryan knew that the wrong move, even by a millisecond would send the hammer crashing through Ray’s skull. “Or I _swear_ to _God_ I will bash his fucking brains in!”

“We don’t know what you’re talking about!” Meg tried, but Geoff didn’t buy it for a second.

“Stop _lying!_ ” he hollered.

“Alright, alright!” Ryan held his hands up. “Please- look, I’m not… I’m not a _Lord_ , I admit that! Meg isn’t a lady and we didn’t come here to do business!”

“Then what did you come for _huh?_ Burns send you? You here to fuck up my business?”

“No!” Meg cried. “Please, Mr Ramsey-”

“It’s _Monsieur_ fucking _Ramsey_ , and don’t you ever fucking forget it!”

“Okay, Monsieur Ramsey, please!” Ryan pleased, tossing the gun down on the table. “I admit, everything.” He raised his hands and rested them behind his head. “Just- don’t hurt him, please. Please, don’t hurt him. That’s all we came for- it’s _Ray_.”

Geoff relaxed then, but only slightly. The hammer didn’t leave his grip, but after catching eyes with a terrified looking Michael and Gavin, he lowered it. Ray was still sobbing in his grip, so he let up slightly, pulling him back upright.

“You mean to tell me that all of this-” he gestured around the table with his hammer, making them all duck as he caught a standing wine glass, thankfully empty. “-was for him?” he shook Ray slightly, and he flopped around like a ragdoll. Ryan’s heart broke.

“Yes!” He nodded, stray tears escaping his eyes and rolling down his cheeks. “I’m sorry, but have you never been in love?” he asked in desperation, and Geoff surprised him, by looking over towards his concerned looking wife and then, afterwards, over to his two utterly _terrified_ boys. “I had to do _whatever_ it took, and if you want to kill me then I understand but please- he had nothing to do with it and that’s a promise. Spare his and Meg’s lives,” he nodded to the gun. “-take mine instead!”

Nobody dared speak after that. Geoff was still, eyes focused and unblinking as he stared at Ryan, taking in everything from the creases in his expensive clothes to the real tears, staining his pale face and filling his blue eyes.

“Geoff. I’m sure there’s a better way for all of this.” Griffon said softly, drumming her fingers against the table. Finally, she had caught his attention and the two shared an intense look.

“Yeah.” Jack pitched in, rising to his feet. Geoff and Griffon both looked over then, to him. “Let’s _think_ about this and make an arrangement, huh?”

Slowly, Geoff eyes scanned the room. Ryan watched him take in the face of them all, his friends, his family, his boys, Meg and Ryan and finally, Ray, who was trembling in his grip with shining, grazed cheeks from where his face had been pushed into the broken glass of Gavin’s water. Then, as the tiniest trail of blood mixed with a falling tear, Geoff released him suddenly, and Ray sprinted around the table, all but throwing himself into Ryan’s side. He wrapped his arms around Ryan’s waist and cried as Ryan held him around the shoulders, pulling him in as tightly as possible. Geoff watched this all, as Ryan whispered comforting words and stroked Ray’s dark hair, as Meg wiped the tears away from beneath her own eyes when Jack’s comforting hand rested on her shoulder, as Michael rubbed Gavin’s shoulder comfortingly, letting him sob into his neck. Then, finally, he looked over at Griffon, and took in the lingering startled stiffness, but more importantly, intense disappointment on her face.

He sunk into his chair. “Fine.” He sighed. “Let’s resolve this.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It was, again, Meg’s idea.

They were all still very shaken from the ordeal, but Meg took it upon herself to be the most put together of the entire group, face stern and stoic as the washed out teary blush paled from her face and she made her proposition to Monsieur Geoff Ramsey.

“So, that’s it,” she clasped her hands together tightly. “Ryan and I will work for you, your Fake AH Crew, as gunslingers full-time to repay our debt of wasting your time and deceiving you.”

“And, they’ll live here in the house.” Jack added, feathered quill between his fingers as he wrote out the contract then and there on the dining room table, amongst smashed glasses and faint specs of Ray’s blood. Ray himself was curled into Ryan’s lap, fingers grabbing at his lapels tightly as he buried his face into Ryan’s chest. He hadn’t moved in an hour, but he’d stopped crying, so there was that.

“Ray will remain at his position, Meg and Ryan will take board here. Ryan is permitted to pursue any relationship with Ray that either of them want, but… Ray will remain your property to do as you please with. Sound fair?”

Geoff had been almost completely silent throughout the whole discussion, and had seemingly aged twenty years or so throughout. His hat was dipped low over his face, and his gaze was fixed at the hammer, still laid askew on the table in front of him. His two index fingers were pressed together and his clasped hands rested against the table.

“Sounds good to me.” he muttered, voice distant and distracted. “If anyone would care to hang around for dessert, I hear we’re having cake.”


	5. The Fake AH Crew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fallout from the situation that was Dinner. Ray and Ryan reconcile. Ryan gets used to life in the Big House.

CHAPTER FIVE: The Fake AH Crew

 

 

 

“So go on then!” Michael smiled, sounding eager and excited as if the tear tracks that still stained his cheeks and the tightness of his hold on Gavin’s hand didn’t even exist. The three lads had made their way upstairs into Michael and Gavin’s room after the spectacle that was _dinner_ , and the others had too made their way to their separate quarters. Griffon had taken Geoff away as soon as she could, steering him out of the room with a soft hand at his waist. He had remained silent throughout.

“Tell us all about your _Lord Haywood_.”

“He’s not a _lord_.” A faint smile decorated Ray’s face when he thought of Ryan, but it pulled at the graze on his cheek and made short pains shoot through his face. As if he could sense it, Gavin reached forwards with a silk handkerchief and wiped the wound tenderly. “But he _was_ very rich, when I knew him. His father bought me when I was fifteen and I stayed there for… I don’t know,” he rubbed his upper arm, sitting cross-legged on the edge of Michael and Gavin’s bed. “Two and a half years? Maybe three, I don’t remember exactly. Ryan was all alone in the house, no siblings or… friends or anything so… we sort of became friends. And then…well, _more_.” it surprised him, how embarrassed he felt talking about it with Michael and Gavin, the two most open and unabashed people he’d ever met. They’d seen more-or-less every part of him, in some way or another, and he’d seen far more of them than he supposed they even knew about. “Then… well, his father found out and he wasn’t happy about it, cause, you know, I was just a servant. I didn’t have, like, the status or the ability to produce fucking noble grandchildren or any of that shit. So, he took me and whipped me a few times for my trouble and then dumped me in that auction house and told the guy to sell me for cheap.” He winced involuntarily at the memory of Ryan’s father, eyes dark and grip tight. Gently, Michael stroked his back.

“And Ryan’s spent all this time looking for you?” Gavin distracted him by asking, eyes wide and shining. He’d been fairly shaken from dinner too, but Gavin’s attention span was pretty fleeting. He was easily distracted by anything new that caught his interest. “Wow!” he allowed himself to fall back flat on the bed, hands tucked behind his head. “That’s so _romantic_.”

“I guess.” Ray shrugged. “But he probably hates me now. Lindsay figured it out straight away, and I tried to lie to her, pretend I didn’t know him but… she saw right through me and told Geoff.” He hung his head and the guilt, temporarily suspended by the fear for his own life, began to once again seep in. Michael gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Ray, it’ll be okay-”

“Will it?” Tears clung to Ray’s thick eyelashes, “Now, ‘cause of me, Ryan and Meg have got to work for Geoff for probably the rest of their lives. He’ll probably be dead within a year, with all the dangerous jobs Geoff will send him on-”

“Geoff wouldn’t do that!” Michael exclaimed, defensive of his _protector_ with a knee-jerk reflex. “Ray, _stop_ it! Ryan doesn’t hate you, and Geoff doesn’t hate Ryan. We’ll talk to him and make sure of it.” He looked back to Gavin, who sat up slightly and nodded, agreeing. Ray just sighed.

“Whatever.” He said. “I should probably go to bed anyway.” He pulled himself up to his feet on shaky legs, and Michael surfside him by following.

“You’re going back to Ryan’s room.” He instructed. “You’re gonna go to your fucking _boyfriend_ and talk about how you feel! Ryan’ll understand!”

“You really think so?”

Michael pulled him into a quick, tight hug. “I know so. Now go.” He spun Ray around, pushing him very gently toward the door. Ray looked back with a nervous smile, and Gavin shot him a thumbs up. Then, he took a shaky step out of the room followed by another and another. As if stopping him the chance of turning back, Michael closed the bedroom door altogether, and Ray heard the click of a lock.

It had been a strange night, and it only felt stranger as Ray walked the upstairs corridor of a place he had just started to call home. Ryan’s room was within eye-sight, but every time he took a step, it felt as if it grew further away

Halfway through, Ray had to stop and grip the railing of the landing. From there, he took a few deep breaths and reminded himself what this was _all for_. So what, there was a chance that Ryan _maybe_ hated him. There was even a chance that Ryan would slam the door in his face and never talk to him again- but he still had to try. Picking up his feet, he rushed the rest of the way to Ryan’s door, and lifted his hand to knock.

His fist didn’t get a chance to hit the wood. The door flung open, and a somewhat worried looking Ryan appeared in front of him. Ray was speechless. Ryan’s eyes fixed on him, and instantly, he softened.

“Ray! I was just about to come and look for you. I was worried something awful might’ve happened I…” he trailed off, and Ray was glad. He didn’t need to know what wicked things Ryan might have thought were happening. So far, Geoff hadn’t given him much of a good impression. It hurt, because Ray knew that inside, Geoff wasn’t really so vicious at all. However, he sensed Ryan would struggle to find trust in him after all that had gone on between them. “Never mind.” Ryan cut himself off, and reached forwards hesitantly to touch Ray’s face. “You’re here now. With me. Please, come in.”

He stepped backwards, and Ray resisted the urge to cry out for his touch again. He’d only just got Ryan back, and was very keen on the idea of making up for all the time touching they’d missed out on. Once inside the bedroom with the door firmly closed, Ryan pulled him into a gentle hug, hands ghosting over the marks on his back under the bodice of his dress.

“I…” Ryan trailed off, one finger touching the silk. “Can I?”

Silently, Ray nodded. Then, he turned around and felt Ryan’s nimble fingers skim up and down his back, undoing the clips slowly. It didn’t make his heart race with fear like it had when Geoff had been undressing him. Ryan’s touch was equally as gentle, but lacked the lingering malice, the forcefulness of Geoff’s. when Ray’s back was completely revealed, he heard a faint gasp from behind.

“Ray…” Ryan’s voice was a whisper, and he leant his head forwards, against the back of Ray’s head. “I’m so sorry. If I ever see my father again… I’ll kill him. I’ll rip his throat out for doing this to you.”

Ray winced slightly as one finger brushed across one of the many scars and warm breath rolled down the back of his neck. However, he kept the pain in his own control. The last thing he wanted was Ryan to think he’d hurt him.

Soft hands on his shoulders turned him around, and Ryan leant forwards, kissing the tears away from Ray’s eyelids before landing a final, loving kiss to his lips.

“I’m so sorry Ryan.” Ray whimpered as they sat down on the bed together. “It’s all my fault! Lindsay- she figured it out straight away! If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t’ve been stuck in this awful positon.”

“It’s not your fault!” Ryan’s eyebrows skyrocketed to his forehead. “Why would you even think that, my love? All of this was for one thing- to be with you again. I’ve got exactly that.” Ryan reached over, taking one of Ray’s hands between his own and kissed it softly. “What more could I ask for?”

“But Geoff, the Fake AH Crew-”

“-I’ve been bounty hunting for a while with Meg at my side. If anything, this job is a better paying version of what we’ve been doing already. And just knowing that we can stay here, be safe, with you only ever a few feet away… it’s all I’ve dreamt of since the moment I lost you.”

When Ray looked up, into Ryan’s crystal-blue eyes, he could see immediately that he was nothing short of completely sincere. Of course, Michael had been right. Ryan wasn’t mad at all.

They had each other. That was all that mattered.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_Two Months Later_

 

A standard week at the Ramsey manor would go like this.

On the Monday, Ryan would drag himself up from bed, leaving a sleeping Ray behind with a gentle kiss to the forehead or the cheek and make his way to the drawing room. This is where most of the official business would be taken out. Geoff, usually completely useless in the mornings, would sit slumped at his desk with heavy eyes and a pensive glare whilst Jack, or occasionally, Griffon chaired the meetings. Assignments would then be handed out to the designated teams.

Ryan and Meg were one of these team. Most of their jobs were basic two-person hits, but occasionally, when they needed extra back-up, a sharpshooter named Mariel and her muscle, Tyler, would join them. The four of them got on excellently, and Ryan had to admit, he was adapting fast to the bounty hunter life, following Meg’s excellent leadership.

Once their assignment was set, Ryan would return to his room to pack his things. sometimes, Ray would still be there, half-asleep and soft in one of Ryan’s silk shirts. He’d cling to Ryan like a child, pepper him with kisses, occasionally, beg him to stay. Ryan would leave him with a promise to return as soon as possible.

If Ray wasn’t there, then he was probably out doing something or the other for Geoff. Ryan would do his best to go and find him, but if Geoff didn’t want Ray to be found, it would be impossible to track him down. In times like those, Ryan would leave a sweet hand-written note of goodbye laid on the bed, or directly into the hands of Michael or Gavin. Ray enjoyed those greatly, and kept a small collection of them in a jewellery box Geoff had given him as a present.

A standard bounty hunt would take them a few days. It took up to a day or so to get to their target, the mission would then be completed over the following two days, and another day to travel home.  Their standard return date would be the Wednesday, or, if the hunt had run into complications, the Thursday. Then, the four of them (or just Ryan and Meg) would return triumphantly with a wad of cash from the sheriff’s office, which was then taken by Geoff and doled out accordingly.

The next three days until the following Monday would be spent back by Ray’s side, whenever he wasn’t working. Usually, Geoff would let him off, satisfied with just Michael and Gavin for company or odd-jobs around the house, but he had a small silver bell with a distinct chime that could ring through the thickest of walls and pull Ray from whatever else he was doing. In times like those, Ryan would watch with a faint distain as Ray immediately detached himself from whatever they were doing and would go off running to find Geoff and complete his duties. What those exact duties were could vary from tidying Geoff’s favourite bookcase, advising him on outfits, or simply keeping him company- in _whatever_ ways he so desired. Ray never went into detail on the hours he spent with Geoff, but made it clear to Ryan that if there was anything he wanted to know, he would always be honest.

Ryan chose not to ask. He was just getting used to life in the big house. He didn’t need to shatter the illusion just yet.

It made him nervous, leaving Ray for days on end when he had only just got the boy back by his side. Wednesday’s and Thursday’s were the days they were often closest, particularly if Ryan had had a close call with death on the mission. Those days, they would stay cuddled together for hours on end, never feeling the need to leave their bed. Ryan craved the closeness Ray could give him, and his skin burned brightly whenever Ray’s brushed against it.

Returning from a particularly stubborn job that had kept him and Meg till the Friday, Ryan was more than anxious as he made his way through the house, up to his and Ray’s room. That had been a privilege given over by Geoff at the end of his first month of residency. No longer did Ray have to remain in the special quarters that the lads called home, just across the hall from Geoff’s private bedroom. Instead, he and Ryan dwelled together, until the bell rang and Ray would go running straight back.

Ryan opened the door to their room, delighted to see Ray, laid completely naked atop the bedsheets. The windows were open, a warm, summer breeze making the curtains dance over the dresser. Ray was half asleep, but his eyes cracked open when he heard footsteps, and he smiled, humming pleased when Ryan made his way over to the bed.

“Hello.” Ryan reached forwards to stroke through his boys hair softly. “Miss me?”

“Of course.” Ray mumbled sleepily, leaning up to press a kiss to Ryan’s lips. “Had me worried for a day or two there.”

“The job went on far longer than it should’ve.” As Ray laid back down, Ryan let his hand fall from the back of his head to the nape of his neck, dancing just above the top of his spine. “I missed you terribly. Sleeping in a tent with Tyler isn’t quite the same.”

“Ha.” Ray’s laugh was muffled by the pillow. “I’ll bet. At least I put out.”

Ryan chuckled, and a quiet, peaceful moment passed between the two. Ryan allowed his hands to fall lower, brushing gently over the slowly fading scars at Ray’s back that still made his stomach flip. “How are they?” he asked, running his thumb gently down one as Ray shifted beneath him. “Have you been treating them?”

“Not yet today.” Ray answered, “Michael usually helps but…I like it better when you do it.”

Ryan sighed, running his hand from Ray’s spine up to the base of his neck softly. The back of his knuckle dragged across the soft skin. “Anything for you, my love.” He whispered in response, leaning down to place a soft kiss where his hand had been removed. He then reached over to the small nightstand that stood beside his bed, and from inside produced the glass bottle. It was an expensive oil, infused with exotic Aloe Vera leaves, brewed especially for healing. Such a product was incredibly expensive, but it had been one of many apologetic gifts from Monsieur Ramsey himself.

Pouring a small handful between his prominent shoulder blades, Ryan got to work rubbing the oil around the red scars that still shone across Ray’s back. The oil did work, and the scars had faded dramatically. But, they were still scars. Not even Aloe Vera could work miracles. Ray would likely be stuck with them for the rest of his life.

They were both coming to terms with that- slowly.

“I love you.” Ray said, sitting up once they were done and throwing his arms around Ryan’s broad shoulders. He didn’t even give Ryan a second to say it back (not that he ever needed to worry that he wouldn’t), instead leaning in for a kiss, which Ryan greatly accepted.

However, the fun was short lived. Ryan’s least-favourite noise, that shrill, musical ringing echoed through the halls and into their room. Ray leant out of the kiss, and stretched his arms above his head, climbing out of the bed.

“Guess I better go.” He yawned, walking over to the closet to pull out his uniform, slipping into the black and white dress easily. “Do me up?” he asked, turning to look back at Ryan, who was still sat begrudgingly on the bed.

Ryan huffed, but did as he was asked. After all, he couldn’t complain.

Once Ray had left the room, his beautiful energy gone with him, the tiredness set in. It had been a rough few days on the difficult job, and resting on forest floors wasn’t exactly what Ryan had grown used to in the months he’d spent back in a more luxurious lifestyle. Pulling his clothes off and leaving his body exposed to the summer air, it didn’t take much longer than five minutes before he was completely asleep.

 

* * *

 

 

Groaning, Ryan awoke an hour or so later. He stretched his stiff muscles, and climbed out of the bed, groggily wandering into the bathroom.

A warm bath made him feel better, and more awake, and after fussing with his hair for twenty or so minutes and getting dressed, Ryan decided to wander around and look for Meg. Usually when Ray was busy, she’d find ways to distract him with wild stories or petty games aimed at children. They had a lot of fun together, he and Meg. Ryan supposed that in another life, if he’d never had the chance to meet Ray, she would be the kind of girl he wouldn’t’ve been opposed to marrying.

But even that was likely impossible. He doubted Meg to be the kind of woman who would just let herself be forced into something so permanent. She preferred a more liberated lifestyle, travelling from place to place, doing as she wished. Often, she’s show him her treasured collections gathered from the countries she had visited all over the globe. Then, she’d talk wistfully about returning to her travels one day, and the guilt of their new position would once again set in.

Meg was good about reminding him that it wasn’t entirely his fault, and although it softened the pain, it didn’t necessarily make him believe it.

Ryan padded down the main staircase quietly, and wandered the halls of the house looking for her. he bumped into Tyler along the way, who informed him that the last place he’d seen Meg was in Geoff’s private office, little under an hour ago. Glad that he wouldn’t have to trail the corridors searching the giant house for her, Ryan headed, with haste, down to where Geoff’s office lurked. It was tucked into one of the houses far corners, and you couldn’t access it directly from any corridor. To get to the office, you would first have to go through the library, then a small parlour, and then, behind a glass cabinet was the door to Geoff’s private office. Ryan only even knew it existed thanks to Ray, who often informed him of all the house’s small secrets.

Pulling the glass cabinet aside, Ryan was met with the firm, glass door of Geoff’s private office. The glass was transparent, allowing him to see directly inside to the scene unfurling.

Geoff was sat slouched over one of several expensive plush, purple chairs. His legs were spread, trousers down by his ankles. He was looking down at the figure between them, smirking. His hand was buried in a head of dark, curly hair. Ryan recognised Ray instantly, of course, perfectly comfortable on his knees as he pleasured Geoff with his pretty little mouth, Geoff’s lips moving in imperceptible mumbles of what Ryan assumed to be praise.

The scene stirred confusion in Ryan’s gut. On one hand, he wanted to smash the glass window and drag Ray away from Geoff, clocking his elder straight across the face. On the other hand, he was well aware of what Ray’s job entailed, and from the look of the scene he was seeing, it didn’t appear at all like Ray was protesting. Infact, he looked like he was quite enjoying himself. Ryan knew how much of a kick Ray got out of being on his knees.

Ray pushed further, sliding Geoff down his throat. He lifted his butt up off his feet so he was completely bent over, giving Ryan the perfect view of the lack-of-underwear he wore underneath his dress. The sight made his heart skip.

He’d been so fascinated, he hadn’t till then noticed Geoff, looking at him. Ryan blushed when he realised he’d been caught, afraid that Geoff would call him out- or worse, punish Ray, but he didn’t move. His hand in Ray’s hair remained, and Ray, completely oblivious to the scene, just continued. Geoff locked eyes with Ryan, and from beneath his moustache, a smile blossomed.

Ryan turned around and left sharply.


	6. The Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan asks about Ray's past. Geoff throws a party.

 

CHAPTER SIX: The Party

 

Ryan got on with the other two lads, Michael and Gavin splendidly. He liked many things about them; how close they were to each other, how open they were to him and most importantly, how good-natured and kind they were to Ray. They truly took care of his beautiful boy as if he was of their own, and not a day went by that Ray didn’t have a story to tell about Michael defending him, Gavin advising him or either of them taking care of him for whatever reason.

Michael was inherently flirtatious, but Ryan supposed he couldn’t expect anything less of someone so besotted with Geoff Ramsey. Every time they found themselves in a room alone together (or, at least, with just Gavin present) he would saunter over, pale fingers running up and down the chest of Ryan’s shirt or over the braces of his trousers, through his hair, across his beard. He’d smile sweetly, eyes dark and hooded, tongue pink and wet as it darted between his mouth.

“C’mon Mr Haywood.” He’d say in response to Ryan’s protestations. “I know you want to.” Then, he’d lean in, warm breath curling around Ryan’s ear. “Geoff doesn’t have to know.”

“No thank you, Michael. As I always tell, you, my heart, mind and body all belong to Ray and Ray alone.” He would politely decline, every time. Michael would roll his eyes, but secretly, Ryan could see that he was pleased. That was how much he simply cared for Ray.

When it came to the topic of Ray’s residency in the Ramsey manor, Ryan had to admit that getting the details of the story out of Ray was at a similar difficulty level to pulling teeth. Ray didn’t like to talk about the past, or dwell on what might have been. Ray only ever wanted to talk about _now_ , and maybe- what could happen in the future.

So, after the fourth or fifth aborted attempt to learn more about Ramsey and the arrangement, Ryan went directly to a somewhat reliable source. Michael was sat on one of the desks in the library, leafing through a beautiful illustrations book. However, when he noticed Ryan enter, he snapped it shut and his eyes lit up, playfully.

“Hey, soldier.” He teased. “Come to keep me company?”

“I’ve come to pick your brain, and _only_ your brain.” Ryan insisted, taking a seat on one of the soft couches. Michael pouted, and sat up from how he’d been slouched over the desk, legs politely crossed, floating above the ground.

“You’re no fun.”

“I know. I wanted to ask you something actually.”

“Oh really?” Michael straightened considerably after that, teasing eradicated from his tone. “What’s up?”

“I always ask Ray, but he never wants to talk about the past.” Ryan sighed, leaning forwards so his elbows were resting on his knees. “I don’t want to pry I just… I want to piece together what he was doing that whole time I spent searching for him. You know, how he found a home here.” He glanced around the library, chest twinging when he looked at the door to the parlour that led to Geoff’s office. Over a week had passed since the incident, and nobody had said a thing. “Do you know anything?”

“Well…” Michael trailed off, fingers dragging over the polished wood of the desk where he was sat. “I can’t tell you what Ray did before he found us or what happened to him. I mean, he hardly told Gav and I much in detail but… it’s his shit to tell, you know?”

“I understand.”

“But-” Michael added with a smile, before reaching beside him to pick up a candied lollipop he’d obviously been storing for an appropriate time. He yanked off the plastic wrapper and slipped it into his mouth. “-I _can_ tell you about when we found him.”

“Please.” Ryan nodded. Michael twirled the lollipop so the hardened candied rattled against his teeth.

“He wasn’t in good shape, I’ll say that.” Michael told him, and Ryan didn’t have to imagine. All he had to do was picture Ray, fragile and fifteen, when he’d first been tossed through the front doors of the Haywood manor. “Skinny as a fucking chicken bone. He wouldn’t say how long he’d been in the auction house but… I’m guessing it was a long time if he came from your place directly to there. Nobody gets that frail overnight, right? Plus, when we bought him… the teller turned him around and those wounds, they weren’t even fresh! Gavin spotted him first, and when we go along places with Geoff, he always promises to buy us something. I picked out a bracelet, but as soon as Gavin laid eyes on your Ray… I knew there was no way we’d be leaving with anything else. I don’t know if Geoff thought he was all that pretty then, in the beginning, but I knew I couldn’t live with myself if we’d just left him there, and Gavin was pretty insistent too. And I think… whether he thought he was pretty or not… Geoff sort of fell for him there and then, you know? Something clicked between them and- well- the price was so low, we couldn’t leave him. I begged Geoff to get him, not that he needed much convincing.” A soft smile crossed his face, and he paused to suck at the candy again. “And Geoff always gives us what we want.”

Ryan sighed, leaning back against the couch. Michael’s account had put his mind slightly at ease, thankfully.

“I should be more grateful to Geoff.” He said. “For taking such care of him. Taking him from the awful place.”

“See!” Michael grinned, legs swinging slightly as he swung them back and forth. “I know Geoff showed his ugly side at that first dinner but… he’s not a bad guy. He’s actually one of the good guys.”

Slowly, Ryan rose to his feet. “I don’t doubt it.” He said.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Ryan had never been a fan of parties. His father hosted them often throughout his life- but Ryan was seldom invited. When his father threw a party, it was usually to celebrate or secure some kind of business deal, and he didn’t like Ryan getting involved in the family business. Apparently, he ‘picked things apart’ too often, whatever that meant. Ryan had never questioned it. Being formally _un-invited_ from a party in his own house simply gave him more time to himself, to read and write and draw and dream. He couldn’t think of anything worse than a house full of drunken dignitaries, sipping scotch and signing contracts bound in blood.

Geoff’s idea of a party was far different.

Music blared throughout the house, an impressive brass band bringing the place to life like a Mardi-Gras parade. Geoff himself paraded around the room in his white suit and gleaming Stenson, silver heeled boots click-clacking across the floor as he schmoozed and socialised. Ryan couldn’t walk more than two feet without someone stopping to ask him if _he knew Geoff Ramsey_ , and if so, _was he all that they said he was?_

Ryan would try not to roll his eyes and reluctantly, nod. He couldn’t help that fact that Monsieur Ramsey really _was_ all that the legends had promised. He was loud, audacious, impressive, terrifying. Geoff Ramsey was the kind of guy who could shoot you dead in the middle of the room yet still keep his white suit spotless. Occasionally, Ryan feared he would see the metaphor through, with the amount that he twirled that extravagant pearl-encrusted golden gun around his fingers, playing quick draw with old friends and business partners alike as Gavin and Michael followed like lap dogs, refilling his scotch and lighting his pipe whenever the flame depleted or the glass became empty.

Not that they didn’t have enough fun of their own. Michael floated the party like a royal-borne socialite, and most of the men took quite a liking to him. Geoff let them drop a line or two if it meant good business, but usually, as soon as hands moved to waists or drinks were offered, he’d shoot a fierce, protective glare and Michael would giggle before scampering back to sit under his arm.

Geoff was clearly good at socialising- but Griffon and Lindsay handled most of the actual business. They were the ones Ryan could see hanging around with the _big name_ business proprietors, like Burnie Burns and Matt Hullum with serious looks behind their friendly smiles. Oddly, Meg wasn’t far behind them, doing her own fair share of networking amongst the known and the wealthy. Ryan saw her stop by Burnie Burns and his wife, Ashely Jenkins by the cocktail table over an hour ago and they hadn’t moved since, lost in conversation. Burns was obviously the most successful gunslinger co-ordinator in the south- if not the whole country, he even ran _Geoff’s_ divisions, as the two were old friends. How Meg had come to know him he couldn’t imagine- but he supposed she was always full of surprises.

Ryan didn’t pay any of it much mind. His main goal was across from him, hanging around one of the tables arranging the exotic foods and delicacies Geoff had imported from across the country to impress his guests. Ray looked quite peaceful, laying the cutlery out into neat lines and ensuring the plates weren’t messy. It was the exact kind of menial task he found simple enjoyment from, and, more importantly, gave him a reason to avoid talking to the guests. Ray had never been one for strangers and did his best to ignore the interested looks shot at him from all corners of the room.

After an hour or so of socialising, schmoozing and doing his best not to just stay in one corner, watching Ray from across the hall, Ryan decided he’d done his duties well enough to earn a reward. He’d talked Geoff up to each and every businessman, gunslinger and socialite who approached him and asked for a tale of his grand feats. He could feel Griffon’s gaze darting over to him throughout, and the last time, he’d caught her eye. She’d smiled at him thinly, blue eyes sparkling and unreadable. Ryan had always thought Geoff’s eyes were the most frightening and magnificent he’d ever seen- cool and brazen with just an edge of insanity clinging to the pupils, but in that moment, he decided that Griffon’s triumphed even that. And, he supposed it made sense. Because the Ramsey business front man was Geoff- with his wisecracks and his temper, white suits and cigars- but behind the face, the real puppet master had to be Griffon. She pulled all the strings, made the deals, kept them all in line.

With the slightest of nods, she dismissed him. Ryan made a beeline across the room for Ray, who was stood with a few of the kitchen staff, laying out glassware. Without a word, Ryan held on to his wrist and tugged him swiftly around the corner of the room. Ray was clearly startled, stumbling and red in the face, but his shocked expression softened considerably when he locked eyes with Ryan. then, after a relieved second (glad he hadn’t been summoned by one of Geoff’s burly guests) he frowned and struck Ryan across the arm.

“Jeez, you scared the shit out of me!”

“Sorry.” Ryan laughed. “I’ve been wanting to steal you away all night. I saw my chance.”

“So you _literally_ , stole me away?” Ray nodded down at his wrist, still held in a tight circle made by Ryan’s fingers. Ryan released him, stroking the back of his hand apologetically. Ray didn’t seem too bothered.

“Sorry, again. Do you wanna get out of here? Geoff puts on a good party and all… but-”

“-you’d much rather hang out just the two of us, no prying eyes and shady businessmen.” Ray finished for him, faux-frown melting into a honeyed smile. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

“Come on, I know somewhere we can go.” Ryan reached down to entwine their fingers, and this time, Ray let him. Then, pulling him only slightly, Ryan lead them around a few corners until they were out in the main hallway. From there, they ascended two flights of stairs, up to the top floors of the house.

“Rye, you went right past our room.” Ray pointed out as they walked through the upper hallways. Ryan shook his head.

“I wasn’t heading there.”

Ray smirked. “Kinky.”

“ _That_ wasn’t my intention, and you know it.” Ryan rolled his eyes playfully, but as usual, Ray saw his front. He turned, pressed Ryan against the landing that separated them with a fifty foot drop to the ground and kissed the bottom of his jaw tenderly.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, fingers dancing over the buttons of Ryan’s shirt. “But it _might_ have been mine.”

Ryan’s face lit up red, and despite the more primitive part of his brain begging to have Ray, then and there, he took the boys chin in his hand and tilted his head backwards. “You will be the death of me one day, you know?” He said, placing one, very chaste kiss against Ray’s lips before drawing back, taking his hand again and pulling him along behind. Ray pouted.

“You’re no fun, Rye.”

“I’m plenty fun.” Ryan lead them through another doorway, down a long, narrow corridor and then into a small parlour room. He’d discovered it only a week or so ago, and decided it was the perfect place to take Ray so the two could watch the night together. Sometimes, being bored all hours of the day whilst Ray was working really paid off.

“Hey, where even are we?”

“This,” Ryan lead him through the room, up to a set of French doors that were covered by a heavy curtain. “-is Lindsay’s private parlour room, complete with her own balcony.” He pushed the curtain aside and the doors all but fell open, revealing a small, beautiful balcony overlooking the lush greenery that surrounded the back of the house. On the balcony itself were a few potted plants and some soft chairs, but aside from that, it was sparse. Ryan figured Lindsay didn’t spend a lot of time out there.

“Aw, Rye,” Ryan took a step out onto the balcony, and his tanned skin was immediately bathed in the pale moonlight. Ryan hung back, just watching him for a while. He was enchanting. Ray reached forward to clutch the railings that protected them, and looked out onto the vast fields of Geoff’s estate. “It’s beautiful. Won’t someone see us though?”

“Nah,” Ryan shook his head, walking forwards until he was behind Ray, his front flush with Ray’s back. He wrapped a protective arm around his waist, and rested his chin on the boy’s shoulder. “Everyone’s inside. I think Geoff’s doing a toast.”

“Sad we missed that.” Ray scoffed. Ryan laughed.

“I love you, Ray.”

Ray smiled, and the swell of his cheek was tangible against Ryan’s own.

“Yeah, I love you too.”

“I promise,” Ryan was suddenly serious, standing up straight. Ray turned slightly so they could look at each other. “as soon as I can, I’ll marry you and give you everything you’ve ever wanted, I- if you’ll have me of course.” Heat rushed his cheeks. He was getting ahead of himself again. He’d really been trying to work on stopping his constant assumption that Ray was completely onboard with his rash plans.

Thankfully, Ray just laughed, soft and musical.

“’Course I’ll have you. If you’ll have me, that is-”

“-A thousand times.” Ryan pressed a gentle kiss at his narrow shoulder. “Then, as soon as we can afford it, we’ll get away. Go wherever. Travel the world. Buy a house.” Each short sentence was punctuated with another chaste kiss, rising higher and higher, up Ray’s neck until Ryan reached the juncture of his throat and face. “Whatever you want.”

“I don’t know.” Ray shrugged slightly, eyes fixated out into Geoff’s manicured gardens. “I don’t mind it here so much you know. In the big house with Geoff and Michael and Gav and… everyone…” he trailed off, voice going quiet. Ryan stiffened behind him.

“…just, you know,” confidence sparked slightly from within him, but his voice was still meek. Ray was nervous- apparently- at what Ryan would think of what he had to say. “Geoff gave me a home, for the first time in my life. A real… _purpose_ , you know? Rather than just being property. He made me feel like family.”

“Of course.” Ryan said quietly, against his skin, before stepping back. He didn’t know what else to say to that, but a new dilemma had certainly manifested itself in his head. Of course, he’d been chasing a child’s vision- the idea that he and Ray still wanted the same: to run off; be together; alone. forever.

Ray’s circumstances had changed. A lot of things had changed with it.


	7. New Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan finally learns some more about Ray's past. Geoff has a surprise for him. With all new beginnings come endings.

Chapter Seven // New Life

 

_FOUR WEEKS LATER_

 

“It’s your lucky day.”

Ryan looked up from the desk he’d been sat at, reading a book he’d found on one of Geoff’s many bookshelves. It was all about the South Americas, and the culture that had been observed over the last few weeks. Ryan found it quite thrilling, and wondered about Ray, with his Puerto Rican heritage. Perhaps, one day, they would visit together.

Ray himself was peeking around the corner of the study, uniform pressed and spotless. He smoothed his skirt as he entered the room, and Ryan couldn’t help but grin up at him. Ray was so, _so_ beautiful, even in the stupid uniform that Ryan had been trying really hard _not_ to become attracted to. He couldn’t help that Ray wore it _so well_.

“Why so? Do I get you all to myself?”

“Hm, not that lucky.” Ray smirked. “Monsieur Ramsey has requested an audience with you in his private study. Said to send you in ASAP.”

“Oh.” Ryan’s stomach sunk a little. He hadn’t seen Geoff in several days, and Meg had been away, so they hadn’t been sent on any bounties. He’d just been hanging around the big house, reading books, waiting for Ray to finish work. Geoff himself had been keeping hidden away, working on something secretive. He stood from behind the desk, book abandoned. “I suppose I shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

“Monsieur Ramsey does _not_ like to be kept waiting.” Ray smiled as Ryan walked past him, not without stopping and leaving a soft kiss on the side of his face. “I’ll meet you on the balcony in an hour?”

“I’ll be there.” Ryan said, and then, he left.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Worry consumed him as he made his way through the many twist and turns that led to Geoff’s private office. He passed Michael, Lindsay, and Mariel on his way- each stopping him to see if he was _okay_. Ryan wasn’t sure how to answer that. How _could_ he be- when Geoff Ramsey had requested a private meet with him in his top-secret private office that Ryan wasn’t even supposed to _know_ about?

Michael had been the last person he’d bumped into on his travels, and helped take the edge of slightly.

“He’s in a good mood.” He said with a smirk. Ryan then noticed how his dress was askew, and his hair was ruffled slightly. A blush set on his cheeks, and Michael must’ve noticed, because his grin spread. “Like, a _really_ good mood.” He winked, before smiling coyly and floating away.

Okay, so Geoff was in a pleasant enough mood to have sex with Michael. Was that supposed to make him feel better, or worse? Ryan tried not to think about it. He didn’t question what Geoff did with _The Lads_ , but that didn’t mean he liked it. His contempt came more from a lack of understanding than anything- because he’d only ever made love to one person, and that was a person he loved more than anything in his life. Did Geoff feel the same emotional intensity on every romp that he felt whenever he and Ray connected intimately? He couldn’t possibly. He’d be entirely too overwhelmed experiencing that, four times over.

These were the questions that often plagued him. Ryan made his way into the private office and spotted Geoff before he was seen, sat at his desk, leafing through some papers. He knocked gently on the glass windows of the entry way and Geoff looked up, before smiling broadly and beckoning him in.

“Ryan Haywood!” he stood, surprisingly jovial. Ryan was relieved. Perhaps this meant he _wasn’t_ in trouble.

Before he could say anything, Geoff reached across the desk and shook his hand vigorously before gesturing for Ryan to take a seat in one of the plush leather chairs on the other side. Ryan found that as quite odd- Geoff was usually an incredibly friendly person, intimate even with Ryan himself. He didn’t do things by formality- Geoff was the least formal man he’d ever met, and was far more inclined to offer a fatherly pat on the shoulder or lower back than ever give a handshake.

He was dressed in a pressed white shirt, white trousers, white waistcoat. Ryan could hear the clicking of the steel-heeled boots against the wooden floor as he reclined back into his large leather chair and fished in the desk drawer for a tobacco pipe. He wasn’t wearing that ridiculous Stenson- thankfully, but his eyes were covered with rose-tinted round sunglasses.

“I just wanted to give you this, in person.” Geoff slid over the sheet of paper he’d been holding when Ryan first looked in. He leant forwards, taking it into his hand and immediately, his heart dropped into his stomach.

“This is… but- Geoff, I don’t understand?”

“It’s yours.” Geoff slid a feathered quill and inkpot over next. “All you’ve got to do is sign on that dotted line, and Ray will be _your_ property, not mine. From there- I’ve had Jack draft up some paperwork.” He patted the other small pile that he’d previously been sifting through with a soft smile. “-You can then grant him his freedom. If you so wish-”

“-of course! I-I don’t know what to say.” Ryan was torn between staring at the single sheet of paper that represented Ray’s entire life, and the cool but kind gaze of Geoff’s eyes. It shocked him to the core- how different circumstances could be between just a few months. Not so long ago, those very same eyes had been staring at him as they burned with rage and held a hammer to what he loved most in the world. Now what were they- business associates? Friends, even?

“Thanks. Thank you.” He settled on saying, lost for words. Geoff leant back in his seat and looked up to the ceiling briefly, before sighing, exhaling long curls of smoke from his mouth.

“I couldn’t wait a second longer. Guilty conscience, I suppose.”

Ryan reached forwards for the quill, and Geoff watched intently as he signed the paperwork with his name. Then, he picked up the paperwork that would grant Ray his freedom and leafed through it. There was a lot of legal jargon he didn’t understand- but Jack was an excellent lawyer and somewhat of a friend. Ryan trusted that he wouldn’t be double crossed, and signed the paperwork. The only space left was for Ray’s signature.

 _Ray’s signature_. It was an odd notion to even think about.

“I aint such a bad guy, am I Ryan?” Geoff asked randomly, startling him slightly. Ryan looked up at him and frowned, but Geoff wasn’t looking back. Instead, his eyes were fixated to the ceiling, staring at the light fixture that swung above their heads. “I mean- I know I go on like this big tough boss who isn’t to be crossed, but it’s just a front- you know that.” He waved a hand dismissively, before resting it over his heart. “Griffon especially mellows me- I’m blessed to have her put up with me. She scolded me something _fierce_ when I went off at y’all over that first dinner and threatened to bash little Ray in with the hammer.” He gritted his teeth after that, and Ryan felt the tension in the room vibrate. Geoff’s eyes became fixed on the papers that sat between them, and his hand curled around the pipe tightly. “I felt so awful after-” his voice was quiet, distant. Ryan watched his screaming eyes and imagined him recalling the memory, thankfully, with distain. “-I’ve apologised to him- to Ray- a thousand times but still every time I call his name, he… _stiffens_ for a second.” A long breath was drawn from cracked lips. Smoke from the tobacco pipe followed, and Geoff’s voice shook slightly. “Just a… _tiny_ second. He thinks I don’t notice… but I do. I notice it every single time.”

“He forgives you, I think.” Ryan said, but he couldn’t put confidence in the statement. He and Ray hadn’t talked about the events of that dinner since the night it occurred. He’d _tried_ , sure, but Ray didn’t like to talk about it- and Ryan didn’t particularly enjoy the memory either.

“I do my best, Ryan.” Geoff sighed, and for the first time, Ryan thought that he looked tired. He hadn’t put much thought into it before- how exhausting it must’ve been to be _Geoff_ _Ramsey,_ all day, every day, forever. “…for my boys and my wife and my business. I’m not ever cruel to my servants, and I know I can be a bit of a hardass sometimes but I _try_ to be fair.” He wanted to stress that point considerably, it seemed, because his freehand curled into a fist and landed on the desk with a soft, withheld thud. “I came from _shit_ myself- I was a poor little stable boy back in Alabama without  a penny to my name. I know what it’s like to work till your hands ache and your legs can’t move no more. I’m not such a bad guy, am I Ryan?” he held eye contact at that, but it was quivering. Ryan swallowed thickly.

“No, you’re not.” He agreed. “You’re a good man, Geoff. I appreciate… well, just about everything you’ve done for my Ray. Without you…” he trailed off, looking down at the papers again. The shock still hadn’t set in, and neither had the gravitas of the documents. Ray was a _free man_ \- for the first time in his entire life. “Well, who knows where he would’ve ended up. Certainly not here. Certainly not _free_.”

When he looked up at Geoff, thankfully, the boss was smiling. It was a small, coy, half-smile, but a smile none the less. Wistful, Ryan would’ve called it if asked to describe. A wistful smile.

“Did I ever tell you how I came to acquire your Ray Narvaez Jr?”

Ryan shook his head no. Geoff looked up into the glowing light from the fixture above their heads. He smoothed the collar of his shirt, and folded his hands atop his chest.

“Well, I like to get Gavin and Michael little trinkets sometimes, from the places we visit.” He began, and Ryan was instantly hooked. “-It’s a good way to keep them in check, you know? If you’re good, I’ll buy you something nice. Michael likes flashy things, anything with a sparkle or a shine to it, he’s got his eye on. Like a little magpie, honestly. Gavin likes things that are old, puzzles or riddles he has to figure out how to use or read or whatever. I remember once, when he was just a kid- I hardly knew him but I purchased him to run errands for me. We weren’t… _involved_ in any carnal way but… I liked him and I wanted to see him smile so I took him to store and bought him an old Italian book, because he mentioned Italian heritage. He spent months trying to break it like code, figure out the language. Succeeded, for the most part- but then other things, Michael mainly, came along and distracted him soon enough. That’s the thing about my Gavin, he’s incredibly smart- even if he does act the fool half the time.” He snorted a faint laugh, and Ryan could picture it, Gavin, pouring himself over books and atlas’ as Michael watched on, bored, twiddling a ring around his finger. “He’ll devote himself to something in a heartbeat, obsess over it for days, weeks even… but then as soon as something even marginally more interesting comes along, he’ll drop it like nothing-”

“Sounds about right.”

“-that’s why I was reluctant to buy Ray for him. I’d gone into Georgia on business you see, took the boys with me and they’d been good. So we stopped in that little auction house cause it seemed the only place for miles around where you could _buy_ things. That old teller had eyes a little too sweet on Michael for my liking, but I promised my boys a gift and I _always_ keep my promises. Michael was looking through old silk ladies dresses and pretty pawned rings but Gavin wasn’t interested. He looked around every inch of that store and still couldn’t find anything. So the teller told me he had some very _exotic_ , limited edition  livestock in the back. I asked him what he meant and he brought Ray out.”

He went quiet then, and Ryan was practically on the edge of his seat. This was the deepest insight he’d had, period, into what exactly it was like for Ray in the months they couldn’t be together. Ray hadn’t spoken once of it- and the last thing Ryan wanted to do was push. Geoff seemed more than willing to spin him the tale, but fondness in his eyes faded slightly as he recalled.

“I’ll admit I wasn’t immediately taken with him.” He shook his head, grimacing slightly when he caught eyes with a befuddled looking Ryan. As far as he was aware- Ray was his _rose_. The apple of his eye. The freshest pearl. How he could even be _undesirable_ , Ryan couldn’t picture. Geoff shifted around in his seat.

“He wasn’t the lovely flower I see today- he was, uh, wilted, you know? Dry, pale skin, hunched posture, fresh and bloody marks all over his poor back. Hair shorn and bluntly cut. But Gavin was… _taken_ with him, Michael was outraged he’d been kept there and they both turned around and demanded I take him with us so they could look after him. I remember…” he trailed off with a laugh, and the twinkle returned to his eye in an instant. “Michael took the faux-pearl bracelet I’d bought for him and tossed it across the store. The chain broke and the pearls spilled everywhere. I wanted to yell at him so badly- but he said he didn’t want it if it meant we were leaving Ray behind. And you know me Ryan,” he shook his head, wistful once again. “-those little doves bat one eyelash and I fall all over myself to make ‘em smile. So I took Ray by the hand and asked him if he wanted me to take him away from that awful place. He was silent, so I asked him again, little slower- and he just… looked up at me with those beautiful eyes, God-” he groaned. “-I know you’ve seen ‘em a hundred times Ryan, so brown and… deep and _endless_. And he just… nodded. Gavin took him by the hand, I approached the teller and was ready to fork out a thousand bucks. Imagine my surprise when he only asked for three-fifty! I thought it was destiny. I thought I was destined to have him as my third, pretty bird. All mine. So much beauty…” he trailed off again, blinking his way back into reality. His eyes cleared again. He looked over at Ryan, and the wistful smile dropped into a smirk. “…but then you came along didn’t you?” he huffed. “I see the way he stares at you Ryan. He doesn’t look at you the way he looks at me. Not even the way Michael and Gavin look at me. Heck- that boy looks at you the way I look at my beautiful wife. That’s real love, Haywood. Keep him, as long and as close as you can. If for anything- for me.”

Ryan was lost for words. Slowly, he nodded, and swallowed thickly.

“I-I will.” He said. “Of course I will.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

After his talk with Geoff, Ryan took his time making his way to Lindsay’s balcony where Ray would be waiting. The weight of Geoff’s words, the promise he’d made to give Ray his everything and hope for even a grain in return was slowly sinking in, filling him with warmth and hope, but still, underneath, a slight fear.

Ryan still wasn’t sure if he _could_ give Ray everything he wanted. They’d been through so much, had so much time apart- the few months they’d spent reunited had been blissful, but Ryan knew that Ray had changed in the stretch of time they’d spent without each other. He’d grown into himself more- less of a _boy_ and more of a man. More so than that, he’d been hurt. Ryan saw pain and anguish in both his eyes and the scars on his back. Secretly, he wondered every day if Ray blamed him for his suffering. Ryan blamed himself, mostly.

“Jeez, there you are. I’ve been waiting here for _days_.”

Just the sound of Ray’s voice, rough and gravelly and sarcastic and _beautiful_ , singing it’s way through the air and into Ryan’s ears made him light up. He’d bare any burden if it meant getting to hear that sound every single day. Of course, part of him wondered if he’d give Ray is freedom and the boy would take it and run in the opposite direction, never stopping. However, Ryan would still love him. And if that’s what Ray wanted… well, Ryan had never been able to stop Ray from getting exactly what he wanted, and he’d never wanted to either.

“I’ve got a surprise for you.”

The papers were held tightly in his hand, concealed behind his back. Ray turned to face him, brown eyes lit up by the burning Austin sunshine. He looked like a mirage- sparking in the light of day, laid out for Ryan’s eyes to fall upon. He wondered if he would ever truly feel like he deserved Ray.

“Does it involve dick?”

Ryan scoffed at the vulgarity. Ray rolled his eyes and his tongue poked out from between his teeth playfully. Ryan sat down on the small lounger and Ray scooted up so they were pressed beside each other, legs bouncing excitedly.

“Well? C’mon Rye, what is it?” he batted his eyelashes. Ryan sighed, once, before leaning forward and pressed a tender kiss to the tip of Ray’s nose. For all he knew, this could be the last time. Then, he reached out slowly, with the papers, and laid them in Ray’s lap.

Frowning down at the documents, Ray’s mouth curled into a confused, yet suspicious, smile. He looked up at Ryan.

“Is this what I think it is?”

Ryan nodded. “Geoff gave them to me today.” He reached out, tentatively, and stroked the skin of Ray’s wrist. Then, with his other hand, he withdrew a silver pen. “You’re free, Ray. All you have to do is sign.” He pressed the pen into Ray’s open palm, and tanned fingers curled around it in slow disbelief. Ray looked from the papers to Ryan and back again, twice. His mouth fell open.

“I… I don’t know what to say…”

“Just sign-”

“-I don’t even have a signature!” he laughed, high-pitched and hysterical, before pressing the nub of the pen down onto the dotted line. The object looked foreign in his hands, but, almost as if it came to life itself, ink was bled across the paper in a sloppy, swooping curl of _RNARVAEZJR,_ beautiful unskilled cursive, sealing the deal. Ryan’s heart felt like it hadn’t beat in minutes. Ray’s hands were shaking.

“I’m free.” He said to himself. “I’m really free. I’m… my own man… I can… I can do whatever I want?”

“Entirely.” Ryan reassured him. “Wherever you want to go, you go. Whatever you want to do, you do. You can be anything you want to be and… well, if you’re offering… I’d really like to… _be something_ with you.”

“Ryan!” he exclaimed in response, hitting Ryan across the abdomen with the paper contract. “Are you crazy? What- did you think I’d just… get my freedom and then run off without you?” Ray threw his head back and let out a laugh, oblivious to how completely his words had relaxed Ryan’s very being to his core.

“Don’t be stupid. I love you, moron.” Ray shifted on the seat so the two were pressed together, and then held the documents back out to Ryan. “Now show me where to sign the rest of this shit. I don’t think I’ve ever signed anything in my life!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“You know, my work contract doesn’t end until the end of the year.”

They’d both been silent in the long stretch of minutes since Ray had signed his papers, officially making him a Free Man. They’d left Lindsay’s balcony (after she came into the room and quite nicely told them to scram) and had instead wandered down to the giant acres of garden that Geoff had surrounding the back of his land. Ryan could make out Michael and Gavin, playfighting off into the distance. Not far from them, Meg was sat, cross-legged, reading a book underneath a parasol that shielded her from the sun’s harmful glare.

“Huh?”

Ryan looked beside him, to Ray. The sunlight kissed his skin, and the happiness made his entire body radiate with a beautiful glow. He was self-conscious as Ryan stared at him, tucking a stray curl back behind his ear.

“So… we don’t have to leave.” Ryan shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “I… I know how much you love it here. And Geoff… he isn’t a bad guy, not by a long stretch. We can stay… well, as long as you’d like.”

“Really?” Ray asked with a grin. Ryan laughed.

“Well you don’t need my permission! It’s all yours Ray. You know I’ll follow you to the end of the earth, but if here’s where you want to stay… I’ll stay. I’d be happy to stay, and-” he didn’t have much time to finish his sentence, because Ray had catapulted himself into Ryan’s arms, wrapping them both into a tight hug. Ryan locked his arms around the small of Ray’s back, squeezing him tightly as Ray peppered kisses across his neck and jaw. Ryan laughed, turning his head to escape the frenzy, and Ray fell away from him, papers gripped tightly in his hand.

“I love you, so much.” He was positively radiant, grinning up at Ryan with his curls bouncing and eyes sparkling. He looked away towards the field. “Shit, I have to tell Michael and Gavin! They’ll be so psyched! Catch you later.”

“I love you too.” Ryan called after him, but Ray was long gone, sprinting off towards his friends. He gained on them with speed- launching himself onto Gavin’s back and dragging the British boy down into the dirt beside him. Ryan could’ve stood there in the awning of Geoff’s house and watched the three play for hours, but someone else caught his eye.

It was Meg, still sitting in the grass. But she wasn’t reading anymore. She was looking straight at him.

Ryan decided to make his way over.

 

The grass tickled his shins as he sat down beside Meg, and the pollen made his eyes itch. This was the main reason why he didn’t hang out in the garden so often. He much preferred Lindsay’s balcony, where he could sit above it all and simply enjoy the sunshine.

“You’re glowing.” Was the first thing Meg said to him, holding a hand over her forehead to shield her eyes from the sun. “What’s got you so… overjoyed?”

“Geoff gave Ray his freedom today.”

Meg’s eyebrows raised. “Woah. No way.”

“Yep. He’s a free man.” Ryan looked off over to where the boys were now sat, much more civilized, as Ray proudly showed off his documents and his new signature, which Ryan had helped him design. “But don’t worry, we’re not going anywhere any time soon. He likes it here and so do I.” he turned back to Meg and smiled, but it was not immediately returned. “Can’t get rid of me the easily.”

Meg bit her lip. Ryan’s smile fell.

“Yeah… about that.” She looked down at the grass, guilt flashing across her pretty features briefly, before she looked back up at Ryan. “I’m leaving.”

“ _What?”_

 _“_ Burnie Burns wants me as part of his team? Can you believe it? he and Geoff are old business partners so… Geoff okayed it. I leave in a month.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“I’m sorry.”

Ryan’s eyebrows shot up his forehead.

“ _Sorry_? Why on earth would you be sorry?! Meg- that’s _amazing_. You can finally do all that travelling that you dreamed of, and have a career and be… well, _amazing_. Just like you deserve to be. To show them all.” He reached forwards, touching the soft skin of her hand gently. “I can admit I’ll miss you, a lot. But I’m so proud.”

Meg smiled tearfully. “You could always come with me, you know? Burnie would take you on. We could travel together, like we talked about. Me and you… and Ray.”

Ryan didn’t even give himself a second to think it over. All he had to do was catch Ray in the corner of his eye, running across the field and leaping onto Michael’s back, head thrown back, laughing as Gavin ran in circles around them. He smiled, eyes crinkling, before shaking his head.

“I can’t.” he said. “Look at him, Meg. He’s so happy here. If Ray deserves anything after all he’s been through, it’s the chance to be somewhere that makes him so happy.”

Meg, as always, understood. She didn’t even try and argue. She just nodded, and wiped away the single tear that escaped it’s confines of her lashes.

“Besides.” Ryan shrugged, leaning back into the grass, propped up on his elbows. “Geoff’s a good guy. Work aint too bad.”

“Course not. You’ll be happy here Ryan. I can see it already.”

“You think?”

She smiled, looking back out onto the field where the boys were playing.

 

 

 

“Yeah.” She said, squinted slightly.  “I really do.”

 

 

 

_the end_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who gave kudos / commented / or even just read this story! Hope you enjoyed.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, Kudos, ETC, always appreciated. Always.


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